Everybody loves
by Malonia
Summary: We all know the story: Stacy saved Gregory House's life by giving the doctors permission to amputate his leg muscles. He never forgave her for that and eventually, she left him. But what if she took with her his last ray of hope? His baby, Callie.
1. Saying goodbye

Hello everyone! This is my first fiction, and I hope you'll like it. I'm French, so my English isn't that good, please don't hesitate to correct me.

I guess I have to say something along the lines of " House characters don't belong to me", but I won't, just for the heck of it, and because if I really did own them...what the hell would I be doing here :p ?

Okay, I'm shuting up now, the story's about to begin. I really hope you'll enjoy it.

Thank you.

* * *

**Everybody loves**

**Chapter one : Saying goodbye**

" You can't do that !" he yelled, furious. Or was "desperate" a better word for what he was feeling at this moment? This moment when the woman he loved was telling him that she was leaving, taking with her their little baby, Callie.

"Just watch me Greg". She replied, tears already falling down her cheeks. She had stopped trying to weep them away, it was no use for they kept rolling down. Her heart, she was sure, was willing to drown in them: how do you tell the one you love that it's over? "You had it coming, so don't try to look surprised, and don't give me that betrayed look. You knew this was going to happen! I told you it would! And you could have changed it, but the truth is, Greg, you wanted this to happen; even now, as you're yelling at me that I can't leave, a part of you is relieved" . It hurt to watch him consider what she had just said, because weather he admitted or not, his shocked silence was enough of a confession. She knew it already, so why was it so damn hard to have it confirmed?

He stared at her, troubled, confused, angry at her, angry at himself. He couldn't deny it, she had given him several opportunities to prevent this, and as usual, he had laughed at her, made a sexual suggestion, and got away from the confrontation. Now, watching her in the middle of their living room, eyes red from the seemingly unstoppable flow of tears, he pondered on her words. "A part of you is relieved"…

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, and his voice was heavy but clear. "What should I do?"

"There's nothing to do, Greg. It's over. It has been for a while." Damn it, why was her voice trembling so much? Now wasn't the moment to be weak, or to hesitate.

"Damn it Stacy! What the hell do you want me to do? Do you want me to cry? Fall at your feet and beg you to stay? Is that what you want? I know I've been a jerk, I said I was sorry, didn't I ? What more do you want?"

" "Sorry"? You think that "sorry" is going to solve it all?" She asked disbelieving. "You're not even sorry to begin with. Actually, you want ME to say that I'm sorry, because the truth is that you still haven't forgiven me."

No he hadn't. He had tried, or at least, he felt like had tried to forgive her, but it really wasn't easy when the pain in his leg was constantly screaming at him that it was all her fault, that she didn't have the right to do what she did. A cripple. Even though everyone around him, including her, kept on telling him that limping was a way better option than dying, he still had his doubts about it.

"Do you even love me anymore?" Her voice was so full of utter sadness, her eyes begging for…well, he wasn't really sure what for. He averted his eyes, he couldn't take that broken look on her face. Could he lie to her? Of course he could, everybody lies, right ? The real question was: did he want to lie to her? Could he handle the consequences of lying to her ?

"I'm sorry" was his honest response.

The silence that fell on the room was suffocating. He needed it to stop, if she didn't leave now, he probably would, just to escape that terrible cold sensation that was creeping up his members. His leg was killing him, and he tried to rest more of his weight on his cane, to the point where his joints were turning white. The pills were on the kitchen counter, and painfully, he made his way to them, and it seemed like each one of his steps had been leading him to those pills recently. As he popped the bottle open, he could hear her short intake of breath. She did that every time. That unnerved him. Wasn't it her fault if he had to take those? What? Did she want him to suffer more than what he already did? Did she have no mercy? He was about to voice his anger, when a whimper coming from the bedroom was heard.

Stacy raced towards the noise, and came back a few seconds later with a bundle in her arms. Callie. His nine month old daughter. He still wasn't used to the beauty of this child, his child. Sometimes he felt like she couldn't possibly be his. It was preposterous to believe that this angel, this perfection, was his. But one look at her face and you couldn't doubt it. Callie House was the image of her father; she had his thin facial structures, his black curls, and his unique eyes. Wherever they went, everyone would stop and marvel at the beauty of the girl and would congratulate the new father with a " She looks so much like you!". Stacy hated that.

As he watched her calming their daughter, a profound sadness washed over him. She was leaving with Callie. His little Callie. His treasure. So why wasn't he fighting her on that when it was breaking his heart?

"You can't take her away, Stacy. You just…can't." he said, his voice surprisingly weak.

She gave him a look that seemed tender. She knew of his love for their daughter. A part of her had been so jealous when she understood that he would never love anyone as much as he loved Callie. But it soon subsided, her motherly instinct taking over and rejoicing in his affection for the precious being that they had created together.

"I'm taking her, Greg. And you know really well that it's the best thing for her. You can't possibly want her stay with you. If you love her, you can't want that for her."

It kind of hurt to hear her say that, and his hand clutched the handle of his cane a lot harder than necessary. But she was right. As much as he adored his daughter, he knew he wasn't capable of taking care of her. He never really did. He always stayed at a distance, watching her like you watch a fine piece of art in a museum: those beauties that enchanted you but that were kept from your touch because one finger could damage it. He loved her too much to ruin her, to break her. When he came home drunk, after a night out in a miserable bar, he would sway into the bedroom, trying hard to not wake Stacy up, and he would move to the crib where his precious girl was sleeping.

He would spend hours just looking at her, hating himself a bit more at each one of her breath. She didn't deserve such a pitiful, broken father. Sometimes, he wished he could be one of those men who took their kid to the park, rolled around in the grass with them, taking pictures every five minutes. He wished he could give that normal and simple happiness to Callie. But he couldn't. He was broken beyond repair. And he couldn't pretend, not with her. So yeah, he knew that she would be much more happy with her mother, the one who took care of her, who fed her, dressed her, changed her, the one who did all these things he felt incapable of. He had to let her go, for the love of her, even if it killed him.

"Yeah, I know." he replied, broken.

There was that sad look in her eyes again. He didn't need her pity.

"We're leaving tonight. I booked a plane for Chicago. I found a job there, and we won't be too far from my mum."

He realized now that the room was filled with suitcases. How did he not notice earlier? Oh yeah, he was stone.

"Will you tell Wilson that I love him and that I'll miss him?"

He nodded absentmindedly, his blue eyes on the girl sleeping softly in the arms of her mother. Slowly, he made his painful way to her, and laid a trembling hand on her small, soft head full of curls. The touch was light, barely there, but she felt it nonetheless for her eyelids began to tremble and soon his own eyes were looking back. God she was beautiful. Her pale soft pink cheeks gave her that angel look you saw only on paintings. She was warm under his palm, and her eyes bored into his, like she knew something, like she understood it all, like she forgave him his cowardice. Her little hand went to his, and he felt his world break. She didn't cry, didn't smile, she just watched him with a depth that was probably all in his imagination: what depth was there to a nine month old kid? He was the first one to mock the parents at the hospital when they marveled at their baby. Oh the hypocrisy of him.

Softly, almost reverently, he whispered:

"Goodbye angel."

She inhaled loudly, taking with her the last piece of his heart. Her mother, eyes still wet, took his hand away, willing herself to be strong, and without a look back, she walked to the sofa, took the baby bag that laid there, almost ran to the door, opened it, and went out of his life. For good.

That night, there was not enough Vicodin on this damned earth to ease his pain.


	2. The day after that

**Chapter two: The day after that**

Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was used to drama. Between the gossiping nurses, the gambling doctors and the patients, they had all the ingredients to escape boring. The cherry on top being the much feared Dr Gregory House. Head of diagnostics service, his reputation as both a genius and a jerk owed him the respect and hate of his medical peers. People were used to his dark character, but today was…something else. He had already made seven nurses cry, had earned three law pursuits, had insulted a dozen of patients and had made Cuddy yell at least four times. And it was barely 2 pm. So it was no surprise to him when Wilson came knocking at his office's door.

" If you really want to get fired, there are other, simpler means, you know. You don't have to put so much effort into being the biggest bastard ever." The oncologist watched his friend, who looked like hadn't had a wink of sleep the previous night. Still, it wasn't a good enough reason to make people cry, for God's sake!

"Jimmy, you should know by now that being the biggest bastard comes naturally to me. No effort needed, I'm just that good." Wilson expected that kind of answer, but something was off. Greg's voice was…empty, like he was incredibly exhausted. His eyes were vacant, he wasn't playing with this ridiculous ball, he wasn't playing video games, he wasn't…anything.

"Where's your team? Don't you have a patient dying somewhere ?"

"Don't know, don't care." And he obviously didn't.

"What about that little girl who's vomiting blood? Don't you think she deserves just a bit of your royal attention?" And as he said that, he noted the white board in the other empty room. It was immaculate, no symptoms written on it, nothing. "Where the hell is your team?"

"Home I guess? Or doing clinic duties. Or doing nurses in a dark corner. Told you, I don't care." He still didn't look up.

"You really are an asshole, you know that? There is a little girl dying who needs your help, and you sent your team home while you stay here, and do nothing? What's the matter with you? Case not interesting enough for you? Got something better to do, like drinking yourself out of consciousness? Wander how Stacy can put up with you.r

Any other day, Gregory House, would have found a clever, smartass, answer to that. But today was not any other day, so he just got up from his chair, and punched his best friend in the face.

That's the moment Cuddy chose to enter his office.

There was some kind of pause, and with Wilson lying on the floor, House leaning over him ready to punch him again and Cuddy's shocked expression, it could have been funny. Any other day, House would have laughed his heart out at the scene. But today was not any other day, so he just waited for the storm to begin.

It looked like Cuddy took a breath before going:

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND ? WHAT THE HELL HAS GOTTEN OVER YOU, HOUSE? I spent the entire day calming people that were determined to kill you. But obviously you didn't have enough? Do you think that punching Wilson is going to help you grow out of whatever bad mood you're in since this morning?"

Slowly, House backed away from Wilson who was getting up, a bit dazed by the force of the hit. He limped to his chair, sat down and grumbled a "go away".

"That's it? "Go away?"And you really think that we're going to leave just like that? You owe us some explanation, don't you think?" Wilson said as he massaged his damaged jaw.

"I don't owe you anything, now go if you don't want a round two."

"You just punched me, House!" Wilson cried out. What the hell was going on ? Was House really going to act like nothing happened?

" I'm aware of that." was the only answer he got. Unbelievable.

After a brief silence, Wilson's eyes lit up with new understanding.

"Did something happen with Stacy? That's why you went crazy on me, isn't it?" he asked, now a bit worried. He knew things were strained between the two. What could have happened to make his friend react so violently ?

Cuddy frowned. She knew Stacey quite well, she generally was the first she called when she was having trouble with House. She hoped that she was alright, as well as Callie. House, however, didn't move.

"Look House, whatever problem you're having at home, it's not a reason to terrify everyone around. So get your head out of your ass and start working on this case. It'll take your mind of your troubles for a while, and maybe save a life. So throw your ball, call your team back, do your things and save that girl." And with that, the striking woman turned on her heels, and exited the office.

House, still, hadn't moved.

His friend asked, concerned:

"Is it your leg? Are you in pain? Is the vicodin not working?" Looking at the empty bottle on the desk, he sighed. "You know you shouldn't take that much pills, it's dangerous." His jaw was throbbing, but he guessed it was nothing compared to the suffering Gregory was going through ever since the surgery.

No answer.

There was a limit to his patience.

"Okay, that's it. You just punched me, and I'm still trying to figure out what's troubling you so I can help you. I'm an idiot, you don't to be helped, I get it. Do what you want, I don't care anymore. Whatever happened with Stacy, I don't give a shit. I'm tired of always trying to repair what you apparently enjoy destroying. You're on your own now, House." He turned to leave, but was stopped by a voice he wasn't sure was his friend's, for he had never heard it this heavy with despair, not even when he had awoken after the surgery to discover that he would limp and suffer for the rest of his life.

"They're gone, James."

He didn't need to say more.

"Come on, I'm buying you an alcoholic coma."

* * *

Later that day, James Wilson brought a passed out Gregory House to his house. After helping his friend to the couch, the oncologist picked up his phone and dialed the familiar number.

"Yes?" She was expecting his called he thought.

"It's James. We've got to talk."

* * *

She had told him to meet her at the airport. Her plane was leaving in three hours, but she had been so adamant about leaving that damn city, that she didn't care if she had to wait hours at the airport. He entered the coffee shop where she had said she'd be and when he found her, he went to sit at her table. She looked kind of pale, and six empty cups of coffee were lined up on the table, in front of her. Beside her, her sweet daughter, his goddaughter, was lying peacefully in her baby basket. It tore at James' heart to think that he wasn't going to see her grow up. He was smitten with the girl, like anyone who had crossed her path. She was such a beautiful, sweet, delicate thing. She never cried really, just whimpered softly when she was hungry or sleepy. Callie was an easy baby, and it was no surprise that everyone had fallen in love with her. James' musings were interrupted by Stacy's strained voice

"You wanted to see me?" She was trying to look calm and detached, but her hands were slightly trembling – although that might have been a side effect of having drunk six coffees in an hour.

"Big surprise, huh?" He laughed humorlessly. "Stacy, don't pull the House number on me, I already had enough of the real one today." He rubbed his painful jaw that had taken on a nasty blue color. If Stacy noticed, she didn't say a word about his bruise. "Besides, you're not nearly as good as he is in the role of the cold bitch".

"What do you want James?" she sighed. "Want me to burst in tears and say that I regret? Want me to realize that I'm making a mistake and run to him, singing my love for him? Sorry, not going to happen. This is not a fairy tale, and your friend is everything but prince charming. So don't try to change my mind or to make me feel guilty, because it's not going to work." She had obviously understood what he was here to say.

"Look, I'm not going to defend him, my bruising face is enough proof of what a bastard he is. But you think that running away with his daughter is going to make things better?" he asked, frowning.

"She's my daughter, too!" Stacy argued, fury lacing her words. "I'm the one who took care of her ever since she first opened her eyes – and before that even – while her good for nothing of a father was having fun with stripers. And don't you try to deny it James Wilson, because I know full well that you were a part of those disgusting "boys nights out"!" The anger, the hurt, the pain, everything was bubbling up to the surface now. Her voice took on a higher note, attracting the attention of people around in the café.

"Hey, don't yell at me, okay? I'm just trying to mend things here!" He understood her anger, understood that she didn't want to deal with him right now, but damn it, he had his fair share of frustration too. He wasn't having the best day ever either, and even if didn't admit it out loud, it really pained him to watch this family – albeit dysfunctional – torn apart.

Calming down a bit, he tried the cautious way:

"Look Stacy, I know that this past year has been hard on you: you had to make a difficult choice that turned out to be quite a sacrifice." The truth was, she had been very well aware that by giving the surgeon permission to amputate his leg muscles, she was sacrificing her couple in exchange for his life, for she knew that he would never forgive her. "You had to bear a huge responsibility, and knowing him, I'm sure he made you go through hell. But Stacy, quitting now…that would be like destroying all his chances to survive this. You and Callie, you're his only reasons to hold on, if you leave… I don't know if he'll ever get over it. I don't know if he'll function again."

He could see that he had gotten to her: she was trying hard not to cry, her eyes were glistening and she was biting her lip so hard he was afraid she would draw blood. Lifting her eyes up to meet his, she answered with a trembling voice:

"That's low, Jimmy, that's really low. Trying to make me feel guilty? Really? You don't have the faintest idea about what I've put up with to help him. I can't always be there to spare him, he certainly didn't spare me. I have a daughter now, and she has to be my priority now. I have to protect her!"

"Protect her from what?" he exclaimed. "Greg wouldn't hurt her, he wouldn't dream of it. He's completely crazy about her, you know how much he loves her! He would never hurt her!"

"He's a drug addict, James! Of course he'll hurt her! Maybe not intentionally", she reasoned, "but eventually, weather he wants to or not, he'll end up hurting her. He'll hurt her every time he'll forget her birthday, every time he'll miss her school plays, he'll hurt her when she will want comfort and he'll be incapable of giving her any. He'll hurt her when she will need his love and he won't be able to show her any." She was trembling now, her eyes held so much pain that he it was painful to look into them. She had thought it through. She wouldn't budge, but still he had to try.

" You don't know that." He shook his head. "You can't know that."

"I'm not willing to take the risk." Her voice was low, but didn't waver. She was resolute. "I won't let Callie go through that."

"But…"

She interrupted him : "There's not but James. I'm done with him, and I'm done with you. You played your part, your tried, but I'm not changing my mind. This is for the best, and there's nothing you can do about it!"As she finished her sentence, a man approached their table. He seemed to know her, for he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder while asking:

" Is everything alright here?" And his eyes were fixed on Wilson. The oncologist knew that tone; it was the one you used when someone was upsetting (or hitting on) your girlfriend. But no, that was impossible, he knew Stacy, she wasn't capable of this kind of things. He tried to place a name on the man's face, maybe he knew him. Tall, dark hair, brown eyes, broad shoulders. Nope, didn't ring a bell, he definitely didn't know the guy who looked like he was quite familiar with his best friend's girl.

Stacy looked at him, and reassured him: "Yeah, Mark, everything's fine. Just saying goodbye to a friend." But she refused to look at Wilson, and he could sense something off about her attitude, like she was embarrassed that this Mark guy had seen him, or the other way around. No, I couldn't be.

"Stacy what the hell…?" he really tried to stay collected, but a deep anger was making its way to the surface.

"Marc was a colleague of mine when I was working in Chicago" she explained, but she sounded so defensive that James knew there was more to it. He stared at her, letting her know that he wanted the whole story. She felt compelled to tell him, even though she didn't have to. "He's been in Jersey for five months. Business" she added when James raised an eyebrow. "We've been catching up for a bit and, hum, he offered me a job in his firm."

The Mark guy looked awfully proud of himself, and Wilson disliked him instantly. Stacy, for her part, seemed really ill at ease. She kept fidgeting, playing with her fingers, and avoiding eyes contact.

"I'm sorry to interrupt", said Mark, "but we should probably go check our luggage. Do you want to eat something or do you want to wait until we're home?"

That did it for Wilson.

"HOME?" he exploded. "What the fuck Stacy? Have you been sleeping with that dick all this time? What's this, some king of elopement, or honeymoon? What the fuck are you doing ? Is this a game or something? Do you have any idea of what you're doing? My God, how could you do something like that? It' easy then to let Greg be the bad guy, isn't it ? Well it looks like you've got your fair share of screw up!" He was yelling now and every head was turned in his direction, but he didn't give a damn. How could she have done this? He knew she was having troubles with Gregory, but he couldn't believe that she could sink that low.

" Shut the hell up, James! You have no idea what you're talking about! You have no idea what I've been through! Mark was a great help when Greg would go into one of his fits! He was a great support, something, you as my friend, didn't do, because you were way too preoccupied with…

"With what? Helping my best friend out after he had lost the use of his leg? Well please forgive me if I gave him my attention! Had I know that it would lead you to live with another guy five months later…"

" You're such a jerk! Mark offered me to stay at his place for a bit, so I wouldn't have to move from a hotel to another."

"Right! Because you couldn't stay at your mother's!"

"Don't you dare tell me how to lead my life, you…" It looked like they were both in some kind of volume competition. Mark was actually grimacing at the noise, and he was sure that Callie wouldn't be long to….

A baby cry pierced the air.

…wake up.

Immediately, Stacy gave up the stare contest and she went to take her child from her baby basket to rock her back to sleep. Mark soon joined her, placing a hand on Stacy's lower back and another on the little girl's head. Wilson looked at them, the picture of a perfect family; yet he had the urge to throw up. As angry as she was with his accusations, she never denied them, he noted. He sighed deeply, feeling exhausted.

It should have been his best friend standing beside Stacy, it should have been him making stupid faces at the baby to make her smile. It should have been him. But his friend wasn't here, he was passed out on his couch, drunk beyond measure, and miserable, and a jerk, and an idiot. Looking back to the newly formed family, Wilson sighed again, admitting defeat and refusing to let the tears down. Without a word, he took his coat from the back of the chair and left the café.

It was too late.


	3. Thirteen years later

**Chapter 3: Thirteen years later**

7 pm. That's what she read on her clock as the alarm went on. She moved her right arm tiredly over her head to turn it off. Sunlight was piercing through her curtains, painting her room with a soft green glow. There was gentle breeze carrying a sweet smell and she could hear birds singing.

She hated Mondays.

It seemed like her body was more than happy to accommodate to her weekends lazy mornings, but definitely refused the 7 o'clock wake ups of the week. Like most people, she figured.

"Honey! Wake up, you're going to be late for school!" came the voice of her mother from downstairs.

She often wondered why her mother kept on telling her that every school day when she knew very well that she was fully awake and never late. She assumed that it comforted her mother, pleased her, to have a routine. So, just to please her, she screamed back:

" Sure Mum! I'll be down in a minute !"

She didn't need to do that, didn't understand either why her mother needed this so much, but it satisfied her, and it didn't take much effort, so why not play the part?

Resigned to her fate, she stretched and got out of bed, carefully replacing the covers on the mattress and made her way to the bathroom. She then went down the stairs, and into the kitchen where she was greeted by her parents.

"Hi there, sweetheart!"

"Hello honey!"

She smiled at them sweetly and thanked her mother as she gave her a bowl of cereals while Mark handed her a glass of orange juice.

"Did you sleep well pumpkin?" He asked, and she inwardly cringed at the ridiculous pet name. Why did people find it sweet? A pumpkin was a big, round, terribly colored and ugly thing. So why on earth would someone consider that as a pet name? Still, she smiled at him and answered:

"Like a baby! Although that noise in the pipes is getting quite loud."

"Oh yeah, Mark, honey, you said you would take care of that" her mother said, her tone gently reproaching.

He put on this embarrassed look that her mother loved so much and scratched his head: "Right, I'll try to get a look at it and…"

"Oh no you don't! You are calling the plumber ! Remember what happened the last time you tried to "get a look" ?" her mother reminded him

Ah, that embarrassed look again. "Right. Okay, I'm calling the plumber. Only the best for my favorite girls!" he said as he went to put an arm around her mother and the other one around her, planting a kiss on both their cheek. She let him, used to it. He was, like her mother, a tactile and expressive person. She watched as he got up, put the dishes in the washer, grabbed his suitcase and went to her mother, whispering his love as she adjusted his tie knot. They kissed briefly, and then he turned to the girl, waving and smiling.

"Have fun today at school, pumpkin. I love you." Ah there it was again, that overwhelming love. Her parents were loving ones, and weren't afraid of showing it. Sometimes she wondered if maybe they wanted to make a point of their affection, like they wanted her to _feel _the love, to be surrounded by it, as if she had been deprived of it. There was a lot of hugging, kissing, sweet talking going on in this house, and Callie, though grateful, sometimes felt ill at ease with it all.

Quite ironic, she thought, that her parents efforts at making her comfortable and loved actually made her feel out of place sometimes. She wasn't much into the hugging-kissing thing. She didn't mind it really; it just never came naturally to her. Her hugs and her "I love you" were rarely spontaneous, but more calculated. Not in a bad way, it wasn't like she used it to manipulate her parents, or to get what she wanted, she just _intellectually understood_ when was the time to give a hug, or a kiss, rather than felt the want to do it. She just understood when her mother needed a sweet word, or when Mark wanted a hug. And she gave them, quite happy to make them smile, but scarcely doing it because _she_ needed it. She hoped that didn't make her a bad person.

With a last wave, Mark made his way out, leaving her mother with that faraway look that intrigued her so much. Was she thinking of him as she seemed to get lost in her thoughts? Or was she thinking of someone else, someone that belonged to a past life, someone like…

"Come one sweety, you don't want to be late. Go take a shower and get dressed." Her mother voice interrupted her train of thoughts. And so she went.

Stepping out of the shower, she dried herself and put on her underwear. Looking at herself in the mirror, she sighed. Why did she have to be so skinny, especially _there? _God, was she even an A-cup ? That was just pitiful, and she felt like a real hypocrite when she put on her bra. Honestly, she didn't need one. At fourteen. Pathetic. What she wouldn't give to have her mother's body, slim yet curvy. Her mother had tried to reassure her: "Oh sweety, when I was your age, I was exactly like you!". Yeah right, she had seen pictures of her at fourteen, there was no comparison possible between them. "Well, at least", she thought, while examining herself, "I'll never need a diet". That was a poor consolation, but she liked to see the glass half full.

Grabbing her jeans and a blue t-shirt, she quickly brushed her long dark curly hair, and put on her favorite necklace: it was a delicate silver chain supporting a small guitar pendant, curved in Swarovski crystal tainted blue. Giving herself one last look, she grabbed her coat and bag, and walked down the stairs where her mother was waiting for her. Which was quite ridiculous in her mind, because they didn't leave together: her mother was taking the car while she walked to school, but it was something her mother loved to do: waiting until she was ready to wish her a good day at school. The routine.

Stacy watched her daughter as she came towards her. She had been a beautiful baby, there was no denying that, and everyone would always compliment the new mother on her adorable daughter. So, she should have anticipated the stunning beauty that she was turning out to be. Her long dark hair were slightly curly and flowed down her back, moving swiftly with every move she made. She had a fair complexion, and a baby soft skin that Mark loved to tease her about.

Her thin facial structures gave her an air of sweet innocence that was completed by small, plump pink lips. She knew her daughter was slightly embarrassed by her tiny frame, but she had no worries over that, she was sure that, in time, her body would develop and transform her daughter into one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. But her most striking feature was, of course, those electrifying blue eyes. Sometimes, she had to stop herself from looking away when her daughter fixed her with these piercing orbs. It seemed like she could read your mind with those, and it reminded her so much of the past.

She often regretted that her daughter didn't look more like herself; she hadn't inherited much of her, be it in matters of looks or character. She was a quiet child, and always seemed lost in her thoughts, yet she never lost anything of what was going on around her. She was well liked by everyone – "that she couldn't have inherited from anyone but me" she thought humorlessly- had many friends, although she didn't confide much in them and always seemed to put a distance between her and people.

Stacy, herself, had felt that discreet barrier that she was constructing around her, like she thought that the best company she could have was herself. Yet, she was never arrogant, nor did she think of herself as superior to anyone, quite the contrary, she seemed to admire the carefree attitude of her friends, almost as if she, herself, did not know how to do it, or that it wasn't for her. She loved easily, but quietly, never made a show of herself, didn't like to attract attention; which was impossible given her looks and her mind. She found school boring, Stacy had no doubts, and even if she was two years ahead, she still didn't feel challenged. Teachers were falling at her feet, marveling at her intelligence and culture, but she didn't seem to understand why they admired her so much. She didn't find herself that good.

"Yes, my daughter really is something else" Stacy thought "and it's no wonder given…" Her eyes fell on the necklace hanging around her little girl's neck, and she frowned. That damn necklace! She wore it every day, no matter how many others she and Mark bought her. It bothered her to see her daughter attached so much to that piece of jewelry; she didn't understand what was so great about it. Well, that wasn't exactly true, she was aware of what her daughter liked about it, and that's exactly what bothered her.

"All set, sweetie?" She asked her daughter, trying to hide her disapproval.

"All set."And she knew that she had noticed her frown anyway. She never missed anything.

"Great." Stacy cupped her cheeks with both hands and kissed her forehead. "Have a good day at school honey. I'll see you tonight."

"Okay, Mum, see you later." She opened the door, and walked out of the house.

"Callie?" Her mother called as she was about to cross the street. She turned around to look at her, knowing full well what was coming. "I love you."

Callie smiled at her mother and without a word, turned around and went on her way, ignoring the sad look that followed her.


	4. The thing with her father

Hi guys, thank you for the lovely reviews, I wasn't expecting that. Here is chapter 4, hope you'll enjoy it!

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**Chapter 4: The thing with her father**

That day, Callie couldn't take her mind off the frown that had marred her mother's beautiful face this morning. She did that every time she spotted the necklace around her neck; which was every day since her father had offered it to her.

Her father. Gregory House. She found herself thinking more and more about him since the last Christmas they had spent together. She knew he was the reason why her mother hated that necklace, because he was the one to give it to her, and her mother hated her father. Callie understood that, her mother didn't talk much about him but from the few conversations that they had about him, she understood that her mother had been deeply hurt by her father, that he was some kind of a real jerk and a drug addict. Mark didn't know much about him, but he supported everything his wife said on the subject. Callie suspected that he had held her many times, at the beginning of their relationship, when she was still bearing the scar of their ugly breakup. Apparently, her father had the disgusting habit of fooling around with stripers, and had never paid any attention to his daughter.

Her mother had said that he wasn't really happy when he found out that she was pregnant, and that he never took care of her when she was a baby. Apparently, when he felt that his life with her mother wasn't going to be fun anymore, he had started to fool around with other women and often came home drunk. Shortly after that, her mother made the decision to leave him in order to protect her.

Callie knew that she should hate the guy, how could she not with what her mother had told her about him? What was there to like? It wasn't like he had tried really hard to be a part of her life after her mother left him; actually, Callie only had only seen him a few times. She often wondered why her mother would want to reunite with him after all he had done to her, but Mark had explained that in spite of everything, he was still her biological father and she had the right to see him. Which was weird, because, Callie, as a little girl, had never asked to see him; she was quite happy with the birthday cards he sent every year along with her aunt Lisa's (she didn't know why she kept on calling her "aunt Lisa" even at the age where she understood perfectly that the woman wasn't related to her at all, but it kind of stuck ) and her godfather's ones. But one year, Mark had to leave for Jersey in search of a new client for his company. The negotiations were taking longer than expected, and he had called saying he wouldn't be able to be back for Christmas. Her mother had been crestfallen, then angry, and finally with a lot of pained sighs, they both agreed that they should spend Christmas together in New Jersey.

Once there, her mother had called her aunt Lisa, telling her that she was in town, and that she would love to see her. The dean of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital had accepted, and they had decided to spend Christmas at her place. Soon, a lot of people, old friends of her mother, found themselves invited to the Christmas party. Callie remembered that night. They had been in Jersey for five days, and she was loving every minute of it. She was also excited to meet her aunt Lisa and her godfather, Jimmy. Her mother had told her that she had to thank them for the birthday cards they had been sending for the past eight years.

What was supposed to be a small intimate Christmas turned out into the social event of the year. Callie didn't remember a third of the names she learned that night, but she had a blast. Everyone had been really nice to her; they kept telling her how pretty she looked in her red dress. She remembered the moment when she was introduced to her aunt Lisa: she was awestruck by the woman in front of her. Stunning, confident, funny, she was a lot like her mother, with a crazy touch. Callie adored the woman, even more when she learned that she was the dean of a hospital. Talk about impressive.

Her meeting with her uncle Jimmy – again, why did she keep on calling him that ? – was more quiet, but incredibly more sweet. He was handsome man, and she had blushed when he had smiled at her for the first time, and he had noticed. He had laughed hard then, and had taken her in his arms, giving her her very first "uncle Jimmy's hugs". Callie tried to wipe the idiotic dreamy look that she was sure was displayed on her face as she remembered her godfather. He had spent the evening with her, asking her many questions and answering hers. She had been instantly drawn to his gentle nature, even though she had felt a tension between her mother and him. But he was her father's best friend, so it seemed natural that there would be some kind of negative feelings between them. Still, the party went on without a cloud. That is, until her father made his entrance.

Callie remembered well that moment, for when the man had entered the room, every pair of eyes had turned to him, and suddenly everyone was silent. There was electricity in the air. Callie had kept her eyes on the man she knew was her father. He couldn't be anyone else. Her guts were yelling at her that this man, this tall, limping, striking man was her father. He wasn't smiling, he wasn't sporting any expression to tell the truth. He said something that she had found funny about freak shows, and it seemed to dissolve some of the tension in the room, for everyone started to talk again. Except her mum, Mark, her Uncle Jimmy and her Aunt Lisa. They staid by her side, like she was in some kind of danger. And the danger, she understood, was limping towards them. She didn't see how this man could hurt her.

When he finally stood in front of her, she took her time detailing him and, he her. He was tall, dark haired and was wearing a shirt she found nice. He was the only one dressed like that, while everyone else had put some effort into their looks – the man were wearing ties, the woman beautiful dresses – he had looked at ease in his used baskets, his jeans and his old shirt. Call thought he was cool. She looked up to tell him so, but her eyes met his and something inside her trembled. He had her eyes, or rather, she had his. It was amazing to see her gaze on somebody else, and as stupid as it was, it was enough for her to feel close to this man. This man that was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen; she wondered, for a moment, why he wasn't speaking to her mother, why he wasn't paying attention to her, the woman he used to love, and why his entire focus seemed to be on her, the daughter he never wanted.

But she didn't get the time to explore those thoughts, for the man, her father, slowly and with obvious pain kneeled in front of her. They were really facing each other now, and she felt the urge to cry. Why? She didn't know: she didn't feel sad, she wasn't in pain. But he was. And he looked like he wanted to cry too, but couldn't. So she did it for him, and she told him so. She was pretty sure she saw something explode inside his eyes, and then he was cradling her in his arms as if she was the most precious treasure on earth. It felt good to be held by him, she liked that feeling, liked his warmth – funny how she had expected him to be ice cold – and thus, she wrapped her little arms around his neck, inhaling his scent. It was oddly comforting, like going back home after a bad day, a bad day that had lasted eight years. She felt guilty to have this kind of thoughts and she glanced at her mother, trying to see if maybe she had heard. She was pale looking and for a stupid moment Callie wondered if she should apologize for comparing her past eight years with her mum to a bad day. But the arms holding her were starting to tremble, and her entire attention was brought back to the man hugging her.

She couldn't tell how long exactly the two of them stayed that way, and she couldn't remember who let go first. She just remembered spending the remaining of the party with him. He didn't say much like her godfather, he wasn't sweet like him, didn't laugh openly like him. He was quiet, watching her, studying her, asking and answering his own questions in his head. And she did the same. At one point, he had told her : "You're such a beautiful thing", to which she had answered pleasantly "I'm not a thing". And then they had gone back to their comfortable silence. The goodbyes weren't tearful, they weren't really sad either, but she felt like something within her had changed. And when he had caressed her cheek, with that incredibly tender look in his eyes, she knew that he loved her, and that she loved him, that she always had loved him.

"Callie? Callie ? CALLIE!" the voice of her friend Amanda broke up her reverie.

"What? What is it?" she asked still in a daze.

"Class has been over for five minutes and you're still here, daydreaming. Are you that smitten about Mr Rockwood?" Her blond friend asked her, teasing

"Don't be ridiculous", she replied with a tranquil smile.

"Come on then, move it! I'm hungry!" She walked out of the classroom, her blond hair swaying behind her.

Callie really appreciated Amanda. She wasn't trying to get close to her, like many others were; she didn't pry, she didn't want to know. She was nice and funny. They weren't best friends, and Callie didn't want them to be. Amanda didn't mind that she wasn't very talkative, or that she didn't say much about herself. She was happy talking about herself, and Callie was happy to listen to her made up stories. So she gathered her stuff and went after her friend. Together they made their way to the park just outside the school, where they met a few of their friends. They loved to eat outside when the weather was this beautiful. Callie found spring was particularly sweet this year, the landscape was glowing with amazing colors, and the gentle wind carried the fragrance of flowers. As they sat on the grass, the group of friends started to talk about their weekends. Once again, Callie's mind fleeted away. Back to the man that she was daydreaming about, her father.

After that Christmas, she started to be quite curious about the man, and she found herself begging her mother to tell her more about him. She refused at first, saying that she didn't have anything nice to say about him, and wanting to "spare " her, she preferred remaining silent on the subject. But every time she asked, Callie got a new piece of information: weather her mother realized it or not, she would say a revealing word, or two. Soon, the words turned into sentences that turned into long monologues that would generally end on a curse. Her mother's hands would fly to her mouth and she would tell her that she had said enough, and that she was never going to talk about it again. Until the next time.

Meanwhile, her father started to call her. She had spent some quality time with him – tough never alone, her mother wouldn't allow it – during her stay in New Jersey; he had told her that he loved playing the piano and the guitar. She didn't lose much time before asking her Mum for piano and guitar lessons. Of course, her mother hadn't liked that, she seemed to hate anything related to her father. Mark had been much more receptive and had eventually convinced her mother to let her get those lessons. To this day, she frowned every time Callie left the house to get them.

As her curiosity towards her father grew, so did her mother's hate of him. When he started calling her, she would say things like "Look at the time! She has school tomorrow! Don't you care just a little?" before handing Callie the phone with a groan. And when he asked to spend an day with her in New York, (for they had moved there when Callie was ten, something to do with Mark's need to expand the company) her mother would answer that neither she nor Mark were free; to which he replied that they didn't need to be there, that he was perfectly capable of taking care of his daughter for a day. The yelling usually started there, her mother would explode and yell into the phone the she would never leave HER daughter alone with "a juvenile, irresponsible, and drug addicted bastard". She could hear that her father, on the other line, had some colorful words for her mother as well.

Pretty soon, pronouncing his name in front of her was sure to elicit a frown, or a groan, or an insult – "that bastard" being her favorite – and the few gifts he sent for Callie were badly received. That was the case for her guitar necklace. She had gotten it through the mail. It wasn't wrapped, just put in an envelope with a word: "My little rock'n roll Queen". She had been quite surprised, for it wasn't her birthday or anything and she had loved it even more because of that. It filled her with intense joy to know that her father had thought of her while strolling down the streets: just like that, without any reason, he had stopped in front of a jewelry , and had thought of her. At least, that's how she liked to imagine the scene. It was the last gift he had sent her, or rather it was the last one she received.

The last one he had sent her had ended up on the steps of the neighbor's house. It was a medical set for kids. The funny thing was, she had wanted one ever since she was a little girl, before even knowing that her father was a doctor; her mother had always refused, for an unknown reason. At Christmas, she would always hope to find one among the gifts under the tree, but was always disappointed. Her mother tried to make her forget about it by spoiling her, showering her with more gifts every year, and Callie was always deeply grateful for them, but a part of her couldn't help but be slightly sad that the gift she really wanted wasn't there. So when on Christmas morning she found it on the steps of her house, she could not believe her eyes, not contain her happiness. It was short lived though. As soon as her mother laid her eyes on the gift, she went crazy, tore the gift from her daughter's hand, and put it on the steps of the neighbor's house, who had a son around Callie's age. Callie would always remember that Christmas. She had refused to open her other presents, and had spent the day outside, waiting for their neighbor, Mister Starlinsky, to open his door and find the precious gift. When he did, he called his son, Jeff, and went back inside to give it to him. That's when Callie started to cry.

They never talked about this day again. She only remembered her mother calling her father to yell at him one more time, she told him to keep his stupid gifts to himself, that she understood perfectly well what he was trying to do, and that it wasn't going to work. At first, Callie hadn't understood what her mother meant, but eventually it made sense. Her mother wasn't just angry: she was scared. She was terrified that her daughter would become like her father. That's why she couldn't tolerate it when Callie asked about him, that's why she put an end to the Christmas parties in Jersey – they were three of them – that's why she hated the guitar and piano lessons, that's why she frowned every time she saw that necklace. That's why she went crazy when Callie asked for the first time, about a year ago, to go spend the weekend with her father in Jersey, and grew a bit more furious every time she would ask.

Callie knew that she should drop it, for the sake of her mother, but she couldn't bring herself to it. And she didn't quite understand why. Why was she ready to risk hurting her mother, the woman who had raised and loved her all her life, to see her father, who wasn't exactly a "good guy"? She didn't know why. She just felt a special connection with the man, and when she was spending time with him, she felt...complete, she felt at home. So she kept on talking and asking about him, and more importantly she kept on begging her mother to send her to New Jersey.

Once again, her thoughts were interrupted by her friend's voice.

"Earth to Callie ! What's wrong with you today? I'm pretty used to the faraway look by now, but you're starting to freak me out!" Amanda told her, slightly worried.

"Sorry, daydreaming again. Is it the lunch break over? Are we late?" Callie asked as she looked at the blond girl, still in a daze.

"Okay, now I'm freaked out." Amanda replied, frowning. "Look around you, the lunch break has been over for more than four hours. We just had hour third hour of math class, you were called to the board three times, and – as usual – answered correctly each time." At the confused look she received, Amanda exclaimed: "Callie! Wake up! It's 4 pm! School's over, and you're on your way home!"

Looking around as she was told to do, Callie realized, that, indeed, she wasn't in the park anymore, but walking towards her house. Wow, she had spent the entire afternoon lost in her world, and had paid no attention to what was going on around her.

"Hum, sorry" she told her friend, a bit flushed, "looks like I'm on autopilot today." They crossed the street, walked a bit and stopped in front of Amanda's house.

"Yeah, well, stop, it's weird." The blond girl said, shrugging. "Wanna come in? My Mum would love to have you over for dinner."

Callie shook her head. "Thanks, but I've got my piano lesson at 5 pm".

"Alright weirdo. See you tomorrow." She turned to go inside, but stopped and asked over her shoulder. "You coming this weekend or what?"

Right, the New Jersey weekend trip. Amanda's brother, Ted, who had turned 18 three months ago, had decided to go to Jersey with some friends this weekend because one of his favorite bands was performing there on Saturday night. He had asked his parents for the car and with reluctance, they had agreed. His sister, who was "crazy in love" with the lead singer, had begged him to take her with him. He had said yes, but had also not-so-subtly told her to bring her "sweet friend" with her. Yeah, he kind of had a thing for her. Amanda found it disgusting; Callie thought it was cute, even though she wasn't interested. She was at least grateful that he had offered her to come with them. It was the perfect chance to spend time with her father. But of course, her mother wasn't exactly happy with the idea, if her "OUT OF QUESTION!" was any sign.

Sighing, she dropped her shoulders. "I' m still working on it" she answered. Her mother would never allow it.

"Oh come on, your mum can be such a fun killer sometimes. I don't get it, she was okay for the trip to Washington last year. What's wrong with Jersey?"

"Everything" Callie thought. "I suppose she's worried about parental supervision. I'll ask her again tonight." she said with a smile she hoped was convincing.

"'Kay. Good luck!" She went inside, and yelled something like "Ted! What did I tell you about spying on me?". Callie smiled, shaking her head. Yep, Amanda and her family were fun.

* * *

Diner that night was pretty uneventful, as usual. They talk about their respective day, summer vacation and the pipes. Callie was particularly quiet that night, and her mother seemed to notice. She asked her three times if she was feeling alright, and noted that she looked a bit feverish. Callie certainly felt nervous. She wanted to ask. She really wanted to go to Jersey with Amanda, but she was pretty sure that the answer would be a big and angry "NO", like last time. She was torn between giving up, to spare her mother a heart attack, and throwing a fit to get what she wanted. So she tried the compromise: asking nicely.

"Mum? About this weekend trip? Have you, hum, thought about it ? Because Amanda's insisting and I really want to go with her. I mean, you were okay with the Washington trip, and I really had a great time. So I was thinking, and…"

"Could you please pass the bread, honey?" her mother asked like she hadn't said anything.

Confused, Callie tried again. "Mum? The Jersey trip?"

"There is not Jersey trip, Callie." She answered coldly. "We talked about it, you argued, I said no, end of story. Now pass me the bread please."

Getting frustrated, the young girl huffed. "Mum! We didn't talk about it! You wouldn't even listen to me! I want to go New Jersey, and the truth is that you have no valid reason to say no."

"Don't start with this Callie. If I say no, then it's no. I'm your mother, I don't have to give you a "valid reason". The bread please."

Okay, now Callie was more than just a bit frustrated. "You're not being fair. I'm not stupid! I know very well why you don't want me to go, and you have no right to forbid me from seeing him!"

Her mother's eyes were blazing. "Callie Warner! Stop that right now!" She said dangerously. "And pass the bread!"

"I have the right to see him! I want to! He's my fath…"

"Will you shut your fucking mouth and pass me the fucking bread?" Her mother yelled, losing control.

Everything went silent. Mark, who hadn't said anything during the entire exchange, was looking at her mother like she had grown two heads. Callie herself couldn't quite believe what she had heard. Her mother had _never _talkedto her that way. Actually, she couldn't remember her saying that word, ever. Maybe she should have felt sorry to put her in such a state, but she didn't. She couldn't. On the contrary.

Slowly, Callie got up. She grabbed the basket bread and threw it at her mother. Then in a very controlled voice she said: "Here's your fucking bread". She then turned to go up the stairs. As she put her foot on the first step, she looked at her mother, her eyes turning ice blue, and Stacy had to admit that it was quite a scary look, one that she had often seen in those beautiful eyes. Only they had not been her daughter's. They had been _his_.

"I'm going to New Jersey, whether you like it or not". And with that, she climbed up the stairs and locked herself in her room for the night.

Stacy was expecting to hear the door slam, but it didn't. Callie wasn't throwing a tantrum, she wasn't having a teenage fist. No this was a real fight, and her daughter was serious. Her voice had been icy; she was angry but so collected, whereas she, her mother, the adult, had totally lost it. She had yelled at her daughter, she had insulted her. She felt her eyes welling up. She was pathetic. Wasn't Callie the one supposed to be crying now? Somehow she knew that her daughter wouldn't shed a tear. She never cried. It scared Stacy sometimes.

Mark, who had remained silent until now, put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay honey. She'll get over it."

"No" she thought, "no she won't."

How right she was.


	5. I'm looking for Dr House

Wow guys! Thanks for the amazing reviews, you're all adorable : FatherHouse, CuddyNHOuse, Princesse Punk, Leelo, PixieLove, StandUpFree, IfEeLfReE, Les-Fleurs-du-Mal, HouseCuddyForEver, Tallin, Chlorophyle, Ilovehughlaurie, FerryTail, BlueAngel, PowPowPower, TrashMan, Face-of-a-dream, LordOfTheDance, MusicIsLife, ButterflyPrincess, Solliloque, Suzanne B, StellaInWhite, purplepatty, GhostWriter, Tweedle-dee, KristenAndRObertForEver, TomAndJerryRock, CloudDancing, Lollitops, LifeIsGood, CuddyandHouseTogetherForever, limptulip, Luna1985, Amanda, Phoenix1475, RosesHaveThorns, LoveHouse. You guys rock!

And I also wouls like to thank those who added this story to their favorite ( angirerocks, hughlauriegregsmind, Jacqui . HP87) or to their story alerts ( angierocks, family guy feva, housefangirl25, Jacqui . HP87, Lauren-017, limptulip, LiveFreeDieWell, purplepatty, snatch 565)

I'm deeply humbled, and very grateful. Thank you, really.

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**Chapter 5 : I'm looking for Dr House**

That night, Callie didn't sleep much. She was too busy planning her trip to Jersey. Her mother's reaction, far from dissuading, pushed to her to cross the road. She never thought that it would come to that, convinced that her mother would never let things go that far. She was such a brilliant, honest, collected woman. But when it came to her father, she wasn't herself. "Or maybe that's when she finally lets her true self out" Callie thought sadly as she prepared her bag. Forget about Amanda and her weekend. She was going to New Jersey alone, and she was leaving tomorrow.

Strangely, she wasn't scared. She had never done something like that, but she felt like it was the right thing to do. Therefore, there was nothing to be afraid of. Screw the huge fight that would explode at her return, screw how deeply worried her mother would be when she would discover that her daughter was missing. Screw her tears and her screaming when she would find her. Callie didn't care about all that right now. It was horribly selfish she thought, but that was okay with her. In the morning, she would go down, apologize to her mother, accept her excuses, then they would have breakfast, and everything would be back to normal. Mark would go to work, her mother would wait for her at the door, kiss her forehead and wish her a good day a school. But, Callie wasn't going to school. She was going to her father.

Things went just as she had planned: the apology, the breakfast, the kiss on the forehead. Callie had no problem lying all morning to her family, she didn't feel guilty about it, didn't sweat over it. She did it very calmly, almost naturally. Now that worried her a bit. She was used to lying to them, and to everyone, all the time. Pretending to fit in. But _that_ was different, _that_ was a huge, terrible lie that would have dramatic consequences. So why was she so relaxed ? she asked herself as she made her way to the train station. As she bought her ticket, she tried to avoid the insisting look the ticket agent was giving her.

" You travelling alone, kid?" She asked, suspicious.

Callie gave her best "what a are you talking about look?". "Of course not Ma'am. I'm here with my parents". She turned around, praying to find a couple there that could pass as her parents. She spotted one…with a screaming little girl. Pointing to them, she told the lady:

"My sister can be such a pain. She does that very time we take the train. Something about being hyperactive or something." She rolled her eyes. Apparently, she was convincing enough, for the squinted mistrusting eyes turned into a gentle look. "Here you go sweetie" she said as she handed her the ticket, "and be nice to your sister."

"Sure. Thanks!" Callie took the ticket and went to find her train.

The journey went by quickly. Callie was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't feel the time pass. And now that she stood in front of Princeton-Plansboro Teaching Hospital, she wondered how exactly she had gotten here. She barely remembered getting off the train. "Autopilot", she thought with a smile, "Amanda was right, that's kind of freaky".

Taking a deep breath, she went in.

Things were crazy in there. There were nurses running everywhere, calling names, doctors were going in and out of exam rooms, people were complaining, some yelling, other vomiting –yurk. How the hell was she supposed to find her father in there? She spotted a nurse, that looked like she was about to kill someone, but she was the only one who seemed available. She made her way to her and asked soflty:

"Excuse me Ma'am?"

Tired eyes turned to her, but they got gentle when the nurse saw it was a young girl. "Yes, sweetheart?"

What was it with people and pet names ? Never mind.

"Hum, could you tell me where Dr House's office is, please ?" she asked. Always play the polite card.

The nurse took on a pained expression at the mention of his name. "God, are you one of his patients? Good luck if you are." She gave her the indications for the diagnostics service, and quickly enough Callie found herself in front of her father's office.

Dr House, MD. That's what was written on the glass door. There was no one inside. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door. His office was quite simple, and seemed comfy; she noted a grey and red ball on the desk. Weird. She made her way to the adjacent room where, she supposed, her father and his team talked about their cases. There was a white board there, and lots of words written on it. "Symptoms" she concluded when she read "cough, fever, vomiting blood". She frowned. That looked serious. There were also hypothesis: "Wilson syndrome" (she couldn't help but imagining her father's teasing: "James, you share your name with a disease! That's so cool!"), "vitamin K", "rougeol". Wow. Rougeol ? Wasn't that a child illness? She knew kids got vaccination for rougeol when they're about one year old. A kid vomiting blood? Shit, she hoped it wasn't too bad. Suddenly, she heard the door open.

"Hey House, you up for Monster Trucks on frid…" His brown eyes went wide as he stared as the girl in his friend's office.

"Hi Uncle Jimmy."

* * *

Callie wanted to laugh. She knew he had recognized her. Her father had asked her to send him some pictures of her by mail, and she knew he showed them to Wilson. His expression was comical. His eyes wide, his mouth open. Still, he was handsome as ever, and as usual, she felt herself blush.

Finally, he seemed to find his voice.

"Callie? Is that you? What? How? When ?" he was so confused. This pretty girl standing in front of him, that was looking innocently at him, his best friend's daughter, his own goddaughter; he hadn't seen her since their last Christmas in New Jersey, four years ago.

"Well, aren't you going to give your favorite goddaughter a hug?" she asked sweetly.

He smiled that bright smile of his, and rushed to her, enveloping her in his arms, swinging her around.

"I can't believe how much you've grown". He said, releasing her. " My, you get prettier every time I see you".

She smiled at him. Oh, he was just the same sweet sweet man she had met when she was eight. It was so nice to see him again.

"But Callie, what are you doing here? Where's Stacy?" he asked, looking around, probably expecting her Mum to show up.

"Mark has a client here, and he needed his best advocate with him" she said winking at him. "Mum couldn't say no, but she also didn't want to leave me alone, so…here I am". Wow, where had that come from? Callie wondered while keeping her smile on. She hadn't exactly thought about what she was going to tell people to explain her presence in Jersey. Her ability to lie so easily was getting quite scary.

And quite helpful, judging from her godfather's face. He seemed to believe her completely, and she felt slightly guilty to have lied to _him_, out of everybody. But it was the only way, she told herself, for she knew that if she told him the truth he would panic and call her mother. She couldn't have that, not until she had seen her father. Until then, she would keep lying, she decided.

"Don't you have school though?" he asked, but didn't seem suspicious.

"Yeah, but Mum talked to the teachers. Everything's fine Uncle James, stop being such a worrywart!" she teased.

"Sorry" he answered sheepishly. God he was cute, Callie couldn't help but think. Stupid kid crush. " I just don't want you to be in any trouble" he added, giving her that tender look she had started to get used to. Boy, if only he knew the kind of trouble she was going to find herself in; she cringed inwardly.

"Well, worry no more. You know me; would I do anything to attract trouble?" She asked with her most innocent look. He laughed at that. "AND, you know my mother, do you really think that SHE would let me get into trouble?" Oh God, she really had to stop doing that! Lying was something, but this was too much.

Once again, his reaction told otherwise. His tensed shoulders were completely relaxed now and he seemed definitely reassured. "I suppose you're here to see your father?" He was smiling gently, and this time she wasn't sure if the softness she saw in his eyes were inspired by her or by his best friend.

She had often wondered about those two's relationship. Her mother seemed to like him; she didn't talk much about him – and Callie knew that it was, once again, due to her reluctance to mention anything related to her father – but when she did, it was always with positive words. " He was a good friend" she had told her, but her smile had been sad, somehow . Nostalgic, Callie had supposed. They never talked now, besides the few words exchanges on the phone when he was calling to talk to his goddaughter. Sometimes, she felt like something had happened between those two. Nothing romantic – and she actually cringed at the idea of her mother being intimately linked to her Uncle James – but she could sense hurt.

She was, however, more curious about his relation to her father. She had asked him once. "He's my best friend" her godfather had answered good-naturedly. "But why?" she had pushed. He seemed at lost for a moment, as if he didn't really know himself. Then, with eyes that bear wisdom, he said: "Does there have to be a reason?". She guessed not. Still, her father didn't look like the kind of person you would want as you best friend, he wasn't particularly warm or expressive. But she was brought back to her own feelings: she loved him, and couldn't explain why. She figured her godfather was the same.

Speaking of him, he was presently offering her a cool can of coke. She took it gratefully, it was quite hot today. Or maybe that had to do with the fact that she had lied to her parents, run away from home, took a train to Jersey, and was now sitting in her oblivious father's office. Yep, that might explain why her palms were starting to sweat slightly.

"Do you know where he is?" she asked softly.

"Probably with a patient." She raised an eyebrow, skeptical. She knew about her father's reputation. "Or in your aunt Lisa's office, getting his butt kicked." he offered then. Yep, she thought with a laugh, that was more like it. Remembering something, she frowned.

"Do you know something about his case?" she asked, her eyes flashing back to the whiteboard. He followed her gaze, and turned somber.

He was about to answer, when a voice interrupted him.

"Well, well, Jimmy, got lost on your way? Don't you have a bunch of dying kids' hands to hold?"

Callie swallowed. He hadn't notice her yet. He stood there, leaning on his cane – a new one, she noticed – that same cryptic smile on his face. He was wearing tattered jeans, as usual, and baskets, as usual, and a rock band T-shirt, as usual. He was exactly the same as the last time she had seen him, four years ago. Tall, handsome, imposing. That curious – yet newly familiar – feeling of safety settled inside her. He was there. And she was there with him. That odd sensation she had every time she saw him was worth all the reprimand she would encounter later. _He_ was worth it, she decided, not understanding why.

Her focus shifted to the three people standing behind him. They were all doctors, judging by their white coats; and she easily concluded that this was his team. She detailed them. The first to attract her attention was the black man, on her father's right. He was very good-looking, and she couldn't help but the notice the broad shoulders under the coat. Impressive. He looked very sharp, and his gaze didn't waver. A strong man, she thought. And a good doctor, if he was a member of her father's team.

She then looked at the blond man, the one that could make Brad Pitt, and all the other "hot pieces" Amanda was so crazy about, look ugly. The blond hair, the blue eyes, the sensual lips, yep he had all the ingredients to make head turn and hearts bit just a little faster – and she could tell as her own seemed to skip a beat. He looked quite young, younger than the other guy, a bit more naïve maybe, but had this air of self-assurance that probably reassured the patients, and she didn't doubt that he too was an excellent doctor. "Not much fashion sense though" she noticed, as her eyes went to his greenish shirt, that really swore with the ugly yellow tie. Still, he was the kind of guy girls her age dreamed about, and that always ended up with a really beautiful woman. Like, for instance, the one standing next to him.

Damn, what was it with this hospital and incredibly looking-people? She certainly didn't have any of those back at home. Were they here to make the hospital look good or something? Because it was highly improbable that so many gorgeous people would end up in the same room, she thought observing the brown haired woman. She was a thin thing, Callie noted with some pleasure. So, yes, it was possible to be on the skinny side and still be painfully attractive. She had soft blue eyes that, she was sure, betrayed every emotion. Amanda had the same, and Callie always admired that about her. She probably wore her heart on her sleeve, and even though it was quite cliché that the girl would be the sensitive one, she knew without a doubt that she was the one crying for the patients, the one that responded strongly to their pain. That didn't mean she was weak, Callie could feel strength there, gentle, subtle, but that probably made her the most dangerous one out of the tree. And she was also the one that spotted her, her blue eyes widening slightly.

"What are you doing here, sweetheart?" she asked softly.

Every single pair of eyes turned to her. Every. Single. Pair. Meaning her father's did too. She focused on him, her previous angst subsiding as she watched the display of emotions on his face. He didn't look mad, didn't look happy either – not that she expected it, he never really looked happy, not in the conventional way at least. But then again, nothing about him was conventional,but he looked moved. She was told that getting a sincere reaction for him was nearly impossible, so she felt quite special knowing that she got at least on every time they were together.

"Callie" he spoke and his voice held that kind of reverence she often felt in his words to her. He didn't ask questions, didn't panic like her godfather did. He simply stood there, watching her like she was about to disappear.

"Hey" she said softly. She wanted to go closer to him as she felt the familiar pull towards him. She _wanted_ to hug him, she realized. But there were people watching, his employees, and she wasn't sure he'd like the display of affection in front of them. So she simply said:

"Nice cane"

He smiled then, understanding what she was doing, and replied: "Nice necklace".

She shrugged, teasing. Then, declared that if he needed anything she was in his office. She then politely nodded to the three doctors, winked at her godfather, and made her way into his office, where she dropped her bag and sat on the chair. From the other room, she could hear three voices explode at the same time:

"What the hell is going on?"

"Who's that?"

" What just happened?"

To which her father replied easily:

"So, who else is hungry ?"

Yep, she thought, smiling, it was all worth it.


	6. Wanna play House ? part one

Hey guys! How are you all?

A huge "thank you" to Lucia Ferre, margaux08 and amc99 !

I'm updating pretty fast, am I not :p ? I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter (which will be divided in two or three parts).

Soooo, Callie has run away and has reached her father. What now ?

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**Chapter 6 : Wanna play House ? (part I)**

" Okay, thirty year old male coughing, vomiting blood, with a fever, and now convulsing. Ready ?...Go people !"

"Who's the girl?"

"How do you know her?"

"What is she doing here?"

House raised a brow at his team. " "Who's the girl?" you say ? Hmm, yes that could explain the coughing and convulsing, but what about the fever?" He asked, an obvioulsy fake worried expression on his face.. Oh but it was such a pleasure to watch them burn with curiosity. Although he had to admit, the differential was also a pretty good way to give him some time to understand what had just happened. His little girl – she wasn't so little anymore – was here. HERE. In New Jersey. In his office. Just next door. He hadn't seen her in four years, and she was here, smiling serenely at him like this was a simple social call. Callie. Why was she here? And how the hell did she convince Stacy to take her to see him. Saying that his relationship with his ex-girlfriend was complicated would be a major, terribly big, euphemism. She couldn't stomach him, and he couldn't care less.

Barking some orders at his doctors, he watched them go reluctantly as the past suddenly caught up to him.

Getting over Stacy's departure hadn't been easy, he admitted that. It had taken a lot of alcohol, and a lot of hookers. A LOT. When he had learned that she was married, he had wanted to throw up. So he had gotten drunk. With a hooker. And there had been a lot of Vicodin too. But, eventually, slowly, he had gotten over her. True, he hadn't known any other serious relationship since then, but he didn't want one. The last one had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had wanted to cut her out of his life for good. He had rejoiced for a while when she had told him that it was over, that she was leaving; but it was always mixed up with a sharp pain. One that didn't come from his leg.

And then, there was Callie.

If he was honest with himself, he was glad he wasn't the one to raise her. Her mother was fit for the job, weather he was the exact opposite of a good father. He wasn't even sure he was a father at all. He just couldn't have raised her. It was impossible. He didn't know how to be responsible for someone else, and frankly, he had never wanted to be. When Stacy had told him that she was pregnant, he had run. He had taken his bike and had driven for three days. He had ended up in a bar, had practically lived in it for four days. Stacy had tried calling him about two hundreds time, but he just couldn't pick up. He couldn't talk to her, because he knew that everything that would come out of his mouth would hurt her deeply. And he didn't want that. But he didn't want that baby either. He had never wanted children. He found them distracting at best, and wanted to slowly torture them at worst. He couldn't put up with new parents and the stupid amazed look in their eyes as they settled for the first time on the little screaming bloodied disgusting thing. The miracle of life. Yeah, right. There was nothing miraculous about a birth: there was pain, yells, blood, yells, bodily fluids, wretched smells, and yells. And then there was misery for at least eighteen years. He couldn't deal with that.

Then Wilson had called. Once. He had picked up and listened to his friend's simple calm words:

"House, you're going to be a father, so get your ass back here"

He had hung up without a word and drove back home.

Stacy didn't speak to him for two weeks after that, and frankly that was okay with him because he still didn't have anything nice to say about this pregnancy. He still was intimately convinced that it was a very bad idea and a terrible mistake to make him a father. He also knew that no matter what he would say, Stacy would keep the baby. So he didn't say anything. He was there for her during the pregnancy, but more as a doctor than a boyfriend. He would speak to her in a professional way, telling her that everything was alright, that the fetus was developing, and getting stronger.

But there was no trace of emotion as he spoke about the baby, his baby. Stacy had hoped that the first echography would move him, would make him finally connect with their child. That was what happened in movies right? The father suddenly can't contain his tears as he gazes at the screen where he can see, for the first time, his baby. But she was the only one to cry. He just noted that the fetus seemed to be developing well. She hated it when he called their child a "fetus". He knew that, but couldn't honestly see it as anything else.

So he had watched her paint the nursery, buy baby stuff, read book about "How to be the best mummy ever?", go to birthing classes. She had tried to get him to take part, telling him that it would help him learn to love this child. He had said no every time, without even having to think about it. He watched the hurt expression on her face, the tears welling up in her eyes. He didn't want to do that to her, but he honestly couldn't pretend, even for her sake, that he was happy about this. He wasn't, not in the slightest. The obstetrician had asked them if they wanted to know the sex, she had said with an excited smile that she wanted it to be a surprise, he just didn't care. Every passing day he was a bit more persuaded that this would end terribly, because the time would come when he would have to tell Stacy that he couldn't care about this child, could not love it.

And then, Callie was born.

Stacy had said she didn't want him in the room because he would only yell at the doctors that they were incompetent. So he had waited in the hall, his leg throbbing like hell, his heart beating wildly, but to anyone passing by, he just looked bored. Wilson who was waiting with him, looked way more worried. Finally, after interminable hours, he had heard it. The first cry of his child. It didn't matter, he just hoped Stacy was alright. When he went to see her in her room later, she looked exhausted but happier than he had ever seen her. She had told him that they had a beautiful daughter, and he had just asked her if she was alright. He hadn't seen the baby yet, didn't want to. Wilson had come to congratulate the mother, who had gently chased them away because she needed to sleep badly.

Wilson had to practically man-handle him to lead him to the nursery. There were a lot of babies there, and they kind of all looked the same to House. Sighing exasperatedly, he turned to leave, when his friend's amazed voice called him back. A nurse was putting a tiny pink baby back in her cradle. He could read the name on her ankle bracelet: House. So that was his daughter. Through the window, he could tell that she was healthy and cute looking. But he could say as much for the other kids in there.

And then, she looked at him.

He was pretty sure that something was wrong with him. Maybe he was having another infarct, only this time it was a heart attack. He could recognize the symptoms: the hot piercing pain, the lack of oxygen, the loss of control over his own body. He was having a heart attack, he was sure. There was no other explanation to the state he was in right now. He was having trouble breathing, and Wilson put a solid friendly hand on his shoulder. That idiot! He was having a heart attack and all his friend, who was a fucking doctor, could think of was to pat him gently on the shoulder? No wonder all of his patients were dying if that's how he treated them. He wanted to tell him, but his voice was locked in his throat. Another symptom. But the most curious one was the fact that he couldn't keep his eyes off of the tiny child who had his eyes.

No. Absolutely not. Impossible. _She_ was not the reason he was in this state. _She_ was just a bundle of flesh, with the intellectual capacity of a pigeon. The only females that could elicit a strong reaction had breasts. Big ones. This one didn't even have teeth….but she had his fucking eyes. And she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And she was the reason he was incapable of breathing right now, even if he wouldn't admit it. Then the nurse was picking her up, and bringing her to him. He watched them approach, and right now he was grateful for the hand on his back. Finally, the nurse came standing in front of him, and with a smile, she presented him with his daughter. Handing Wilson his cane, he held out his arms, and received the most precious gift ever.

She was warm, and soft, and light, and tiny and so very lovely. He cradled her against his chest, his eyes never moving from hers. And she was looking right back at him, seemingly as amazed by him as he was by her. His leg was killing him, but it didn't matter. He could bleed to death right now, and it still wouldn't matter. Nothing else but the life he was carrying in his arms. She was the only thing that mattered. And she was his daughter.

"Callie" he whispered. He didn't know where that came from. Was that even his voice? Had he just named her? He couldn't really comprehend things right now. He vaguely heard Wilson sniffing besides him, but he didn't turn to him. It was like his brain was sending him a warning: that if he blinked, or looked away, she would disappear. He didn't know why, but he couldn't have that. He couldn't tell what happened next, didn't remember how long he stood there with his daughter in his arms, and didn't recall when Stacy got out of the hospital. He just knew that something inside him had exploded that day, and that he loved his daughter with every fiber of his being.

A cough from the other side of the room broke his memories trip. Wilson was still here, looking at him with insistence.

"Told you already James, I'm not gay. So stop looking at me with those heavy lustful eyes, hoping to get in my pants".

Rolling his eyes, the oncologist replied: "Yeah because that's the reason I'm looking at you, nothing to do with the fact that your daughter that you haven't seen in four years is standing in the next room waiting for you".

" I have clinic duties. And if I don't do them the evil witch will use my intestine to hang me to death." At his friend's raised brow he added: " Her words, not mine".

"Right. Since when do you care about running noses? I'm pretty sure Cuddy will let you out of the loop for this time. And I'm also pretty sure that you don't give a damn about her threats. You're just looking for an excuse. What is it? Are you scared?"

"Oh yes mummy, I'm afraid of the 80 pounds, fourteen year old girl in the other room! What if she's hiding a Kalashnikov in that shoulder bag of hers?" he asked, putting on a scared expression.

"Ah Ah", Wilson didn't look impressed, "shut the hell up and go talk to your girl".

House sighed loudly and got up. "Okay", he told Wilson as he passed by him " but only because you're so damn sexy when you're angry". Smiling triumphally at his friend's disgruntled expression. But he stopped at the entrance and watched the scene before him. Callie was sleeping soundlessly on the floor. Her bag was on his desk and her pale blue coat was lying on the back of the chair. Her face was turned to him and he could observe the changes that had occurred those past four years. He had seen pictures of her, the ones she sent him by mail, but they didn't do her justice. At age fourteen she was a little stunner, but then again she had been since the first moment she opened her eyes. Yet, he wasn't expecting her to grow up this beautiful, and he was sure that this wasn't the end of it. Her hair was a lot longer, and her face had lost some of the baby fat. She was still tiny, and he supposed she would still be as she reached her adult height and weight. He drunk every little detail in, savoring the moment he knew wouldn't last long. Soon enough, her mother would barge in here, and he would have to wait another four years to see her again.

Shaking the thought away, he carefully went to lie down beside her. She moved at the contact, and came closer, looking for warmth in her sleep he figured. Her head was now lying against his chest, her arms caged between their bodies. He was about to wake her up and tell her that he wasn't a teddy bear for her to cuddle, but he couldn't bring himself to it. So, ever so slowly, he put his arm around her, folding the other one under his head... Feeling oddly at peace, he turned his head toward the ceiling before succumbing to sleep himself.

* * *

When she woke up, Callie had to suppress a laugh. The situation was quite ridiculous: her father and she were lying on his office's floor, sleeping as if it was the normal thing to do. Looking at her watch she was reassured to see that she had been sleeping for no more than half an hour. Turning to watch her father, she let her eyes wander over him: she wasn't sure how old her father was, it was hard to tell, he looked both young and old at the same time, the two mixing up rather finely. Observing him, she couldn't help but look at his right leg, the damaged one. Her mother hadn't said much about it, just that there had been an accident and that he would limp for the rest of his life. Callie had asked then if he was in pain, to which her mother had just lowered her eyes. She had understood. Once she had asked him directly, and he had answered with a frown: "Right now, not so much". That she didn't understand.

"I'm handsome, am I not?" came her father's drawling voice. His eyes were still closed, but he had felt her gaze.

Shrugging, she answered "I've seen worse".

"You should be grateful, you know. If you look decent it's all thanks to good genes" he threw back, still refusing to open his eyes.

"Your genes aren't the only ones I inherited, remember? Or was it some weird version of the immaculate conception?". He smiled at that. She was an interesting one.

"Oh believe me, there was nothing immaculate about your conception", wriggling his eyebrows.

Smiling softly, she told him that he was disgusting.

"And you don't know the half of it" said the black doctor ("Dr Foreman" she read on his nametag) she had seen earlier and who was currently standing at the door, looking at the two of them like this was a bad joke. Callie smiled at him, and stood up, expecting her father to do the same. But he was still lying on the floor like nothing had happened.

"Hum…". She looked from her father to Dr. Foreman. The latter didn't seem really phased by the situation. "Like he's used to it" she thought, shaking her head at her father.

"Callie, is there a black man pretending to be a doctor in the room?" he asked her, without moving. (Or opening his eyes).

"Yep" she answered glimpsing at the doctor who was looking patiently at the man lying on the floor.

"Be careful, he's dangerous. He used to be a delinquent you know? A burglar and a car thief. You shouldn't grow up to be any of those." He said matter-of-factly.

"Except if you want to be hired in this service" the young doctor replied, crossing his arms.

Callie looked at him, impressed. "Wow. Is everyone on this team some kind of a criminal?"

Her father snorted. "Hardly. The other two are just here to be pretty."

Rolling his eyes, Dr Foreman said something about Chase being happy to know that. She supposed Chase was the blond god. Well he _was_ pretty.

"Anyway, I'm sorry to interrupt your little party here" Dr Foreman went on "but I have the biopsy results. They're positive. You were right" and Callie thought that it was hard for him to admit it. "It's rougeol".

That got her father's attention, obviously, because he opened his eyes and got up. Taking the files from the young doctor's hands, he looked at them briefly, then threw them back at Dr Foreman, and told him to proceed with the treatment.

"Cameron and Chase are already on it" he replied. "Oh and here you go". With much reluctance, he gave him a 50$ bill.

House took it and smelled it with twisted delight. "How sweet is the scent of your utter and complete defeat!" To which Foreman huffed exasperatedly and went out.

Callie watched him leave. "Wow. Your job is cool." She told her father.

"Oh you don't know the half of it" he replied winking.

And she laughed.

* * *

"You know, I thought that there couldn't be worst that school food. And here I am, discovering hospital food. This is tragic" Callie said casually while eating her sandwich. It really tasted awful: she was pretty sure that pinkish stuff in the bread was ham, but curiously, it tasted like wasted tuna. Weird. And disgusting.

"If I remember correctly, and I do, you mother was a pretty shitty cook"

Laughing, she said : "Still is. Mark is the one cooking, and he's pretty good"

Something seemed to enter his eyes as she mentioned her stepfather.

"You call him Mark?"

She looked confused: "It's his name as far as I know".

"Smart ass. I mean, no "Dad" or "Daddy" or "Father"…?"She wondered if it worried him that she could call Mark "dad" or if he was simply curious.

"I used to" she answered slowly. "And then I met you" she thought. She had stopped calling Mark "daddy" after that Christmas party in jersey where she had met her real father. Mark had been hurt. After a month of her calling him by his name, he came to her room, asking her why she did so. She had honestly replied that it didn't feel right anymore. He had looked deeply hurt, Callie remembered, and she understood that, if anything, Mark had always considered her his own.

She didn't voice her thoughts, but she knew her father understood. He could read people quite well, and she supposed that, being his daughter, she was no exception. In a strange way, he knew her better than anyone even though she could count on one hand the number of times they had seen each other throughout her entire life.

"Do you want me to call you "dad"? she asked, throwing him off a bit. "I can, you know" she told him as if she was telling him that she could solve a math problem.

"Do what you want kid" he grumbled. She had to smile. This "I know you" thing worked both way. She could tell when he was lying, when he was avoiding a subject, when he was hiding something. That "do what you want kid" was a big invitation.

"Okay" she said simply. She then spotted her godfather across the room, and not very far behind him, her father's team. Glimpsing at her father, she waved at them to come over. He would probably give her a pained grimace, but she didn't care. She didn't have much time, and she wanted to know everything there was to know about him. And the best way to do that was to talk to the people who were the closest to him.

House gave the pained grimace when his whole team plus Wilson joined them, albeit cautiously, like they were ready to run if he told them to. She asked them questions, about their job, about their life, their family. At first, they seemed ill at ease, probably wondering who this crazy girl was and why she was asking all those freaking questions, but Callie won them over, as she always did. The conversation turned out nice, animated by silly stories and anecdotes. Even her father seemed to take part, even though he kept his aloof attitude. "Good" she thought, that's how she knew him. She didn't want him to change anything for her; she just wanted to see him in his _natural habitat._ Eventually, they all had to go back to work. Wilson went first, kissing her forehead as he did so. Then, Foreman, Chase and Allison. Just as she was about to leave the cafeteria, she turned around, marched back to the table where Callie and her father were still seated, and asked determinedly.

"She's your daughter, right?" And her tone signified that even if they said no, she wouldn't believe them.

Father and daughter looked at each other, then at her. The twin pair of eyes was enough of an answer for her. She looked tenderly at House, smiled at Callie, and left.

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Thank you for reading. Now I know I'm getting greedy, but your reviews were all so sweet, I hope you'lle find the heart and time to give me some new ones for this chapter. Lots of love!


	7. Wanna play House ? part two

Hey guys! It's me, again! Hope you're not getting tired of this story (or me) yet ! I'm having a blast writing it.

I'd like to thank margaux08 for her lovely reviews. Thanks to Scarlett Burns and tomboy4997 for adding this story to their favorite, and thanks to ladyyuuki16 for adding it to her story alerts. You're all very sweet to take the time to read.

To answer some of your questions: yes Callie is going to grow up. You'll get to know all about her young adult life, her romances, and her carreer choices.

I'd like to apologize about the medical cases. I' really don't know anything about medicine so I'll have to get my inspiration directly from the cases treated on the show. So now's the time for me to say that I don't own most of the cases that will be mentioned in this story and I apologize for the lack of creativity around that aspect.

Also, don't hesitate to correct me when I make mistakes !

Here's the second part of chapter 6. What's on the menu? The real Callie/House confrontation.**  
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**Chapter 6 : Wanna play House ? (part II)**

They were back in his office now, and were discussing a new case House had agreed on taking because he found it "damn cool". A woman, 42, was suffering from respiratory distress and amnesia. She had developed the "mirror syndrome" meaning, Callie learned, that she adopted the personality of the person she was faced with. Callie was having a hard time imagining the situation, but understood why her father found it so interesting. He was presently noting the symptoms on the white board while asking his team for hypotheses. They were impressive, she thought as she watched them make several suggestions, while eliminating others because they couldn't explain some of the symptoms. She found them brilliant. She didn't get everything they said, but still found herself pondering on each suggestion (when she could understand it). It was absolutely fascinating.

Quickly enough, Foreman and Chase left to analyze the blood they had taken, while House decided it was time to have fun whit the "mirror lady". That left Callie alone in the room with Dr Cameron. The two of them kept silent, unsure of what to say to the other. It wasn't exactly an uncomfortable silence, Callie thought, it just wasn't easy to start a conversation with an almost total stranger. Allison was a very nice woman, the young girl had liked the little she had seen of her. And she was fascinated by her father, Callie noticed, but again, who wasn't?

"I'm sorry" she said out of the blue.

Allison looked up from the patient file, obviously surprised. "Whatever for?"

Callie raised a shoulder before answering." For intruding like that. I mean, I invited myself over, I'm following you guys around like a sick puppy, I keep on asking questions, I harassed you during lunch, and I listen to your differentials. I hope am not disturbing your work". She realized now that maybe the team didn't want her there, she had been quite selfish thinking that she could simply barge in here, just because she felt like spending time with her father

Dr Cameron watched as the young girl began blabbering while turning red. She was still processing the fact that her boss, the rude, misanthropist, self-centered, brilliantly disarming Gregory House, had a teenage daughter. How did he manage to hide it for so long? Allison was pretty sure the girl wasn't living with her father, so she guessed that he and Callie's mother were separated. Since when? How long were they together? Were they married? Had he lost custody of Callie? Was she the reason her parents broke up? She shook her head at the thought, feeling like a horrible person just for supposing that. From what she had seen of her, Callie was a sweet child, it was cruel to put the weight of her parents' separation on her shoulders. She didn't mind her being here, she was very discreet and polite; her questions were surprising but nothing intruding, so there wasn't any reason to mind really. She reassured her.

"Don't worry about it, sweetie. You're no problem at all." Curioisity getting the best of her, she asked: " I guess you don't get to see your father very often, do you?"

It was fair enough, Callie thought. After all, she had spent the day pestering them, and neither she nor her father had answered their questions about her presence here. As far as she knew, Chase and Foreman still didn't know who she was. So she supposed she owed them kind of an explanation.

"You can say that." She told with a small smile. "The last time I saw him was four years ago".

She expected the doctor's reaction: the wide eyes, then the sadness in them, followed by compassion.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry. It must be really hard. You know they say that the children are always the one to suffer when couples break up"

"I don't suffer from it, I'm really okay with it" Callie answered with sincerity. "I'm just curious about him, that's all".

"So you live with your mother". It was more a statement than a question.

"Yep, and my stepfather, in New York" Callie replied "they're here on a business trip so they thought it would be nice for me to spend some time with my father" she added with a bright innocent smile.

"See, Cameron ? I told you: everybody lies" came House's voice as he stepped in the room. "And my daughter is no exception". His eyes were focused on Callie, piercing her, and she wondered for a moment if he could read her mind. Her heart was going crazy inside her chest. "It's over" she thought "I'm caught. He's going to call Mum. I'm in serious shit".

Dr Cameron apparently thought it was a good time to go help Chase and Foreman, and she left the office quietly.

"SO" began House while limping towards a chair. He sat at the table, right in front of her. "It was fun while it lasted, kiddo, but I'm having a really hard time believing that your mother, who graciously hates my guts, would let you come spend the day with me, here, alone. So you better start talking" he ordered while crossing his hands on the handle of his cane.

"Think Callie, think "he girl chastised herself. How could she have been so stupid? Of course her father wouldn't buy that story! Her mother was always yelling at him that she would never leave HER daughter in his care, "not even for two minutes". Now she had to find a way out of this. What to do? Tell the truth? Yes, and then she would never seem him before her majority. So what? Lie? And tell what?

"Okay, you got me" she admitted, shoulders dropped, head low. "Mum doesn't know I'm here". She looked up at him through her eyelashes, watching his reaction.

He didn't say anything, but he sighed loudly while shaking his head. Was he disappointed ? she wondered. Angry? He didn't look either, he just looked like he knew this wasn't going to end well. Think, Callie, think.

"It's only Mark and I" she explained. "He really is here on business, and I begged Mum to let me go with him. Things have been kind of tensed lately, and I needed a break. She agreed eventually but made me promise that I wouldn't go look for you, that I would stay with Mark. I promised, but then I kind of persuaded Mark to let me come here to see you." She lowered her eyes, like she was feeling guilty for manipulating her stepfather, where in fact she was feeling low for lying so much and so straightforwardly. "He can't really say no to me, and he's always been on my side when I said I wanted to know more about you". Well, a least that was true, Mark had always tried to convince her mother to let her see her father. "She has the right to" he would say. But he didn't stand a chance against her mother's wrath, so he let go every time, throwing a sorry look at Callie. She appreciated the support, even if she didn't say it out loud.

Glimpsing at her father, she saw him processing the lie she had just served him. His eyes were electric, it seemed, and she felt like he was searching her soul. Eventually, he nodded, but she couldn't really say if that was him saying: "I believe you" or "I know you're lying, but I'm letting go".

"Are we good?" she asked unsure.

He raised a questioning eyebrow at that.

"I mean, you're not going to call Mum?"

"Should I?" he asked, and she wondered briefly if he was expecting an answer. "You're here with Clark"

"Mark" she corrected.

"Whatever. You're here with him, right?" he asked smirking a bit. "And he's a responsible adult, right?"

"Right" she answered.

"The kind of guy who leaves earlier than necessary in the morning to be sure he won't be late at work, right? he asked, getting up.

" Hum, right" she was getting a bit confused now

"The kind who stops drinking after his first beer, because he doesn't want to "give a bad message to the kid", right?" he was sort of pacing now.

"Y..yeah". Okay, things were getting weird.

"The kind who thinks that family time is the most precious thing a man can get, right?"

"Right. Where is this going?" she asked exasperatly.

He stopped in his tracks. "Damn, he sounds boring". She shrugged. Yeah, he was. A little. "The point is that with such a guy around, I don't see why I should call the witch". He concluded with a smirk.

"Hey" she reproached with a frown.

"Oh come on!" he was helping himself to some coffee, and offered her one, and she looked at him as if he was crazy. "Maybe he is" she thought. "Let's not pretend that your mother and I are on really good terms and that we keep a sweet tender memory of each other. You must have heard some pretty words from her too."

"Well, can you blame her?" Callie asked without any agressivity. She was quite happy to see the turn the conversation was taking. She wanted to know his side of the story. "I heard that you weren't exactly the gentleman back in the days. Sleeping around, coming home drunk…are you going to deny it?"

He looked at her, and she felt once more the power of his eyes. Did she have the same? Her friends often told her that she had amazing eyes, but they also told her that they could be quite disturbing when she stared. She understood now that she was the one being looked at with those eyes. "You want me to deny it, don't you?" he asked, his voice deep.

She was thrown off.

Leaning a bit more on his cane, he went on. "You want me to tell you that she's been lying to you all this time. That your father isn't the heartless bastard I'm sure she portrayed, that somewhere deep down I'm a good man, and that I'm a good father."

She remained silent, staring back.

"Sorry to disappoint you, kid, but your mother didn't trick you on this one" he told pointing to himself.

She cleared her throat, and crossed her arms, giving him a hard look. "You came home drunk?"

"Sometimes"

"You slept around?"

"I went to strip clubs, do you want to know what I did with the stripers?" he asked, and she heard the provocation.

"Go ahead" she threw back, unphased. He shook his head. "Are you a drug addict?" she asked, glimpsing at the pills on the table. Yes, she had seen him take them frequently, but those were meds, right? Was that the drugs her mother talked about?

"I take Vicodin because my leg hurts." And she knew it was true, she had seen him massage his leg discreetly. Taking a deep breath, she uncrossed her arms and looked down, gathering up her courage to ask the question that was burning her.

"Did you really not want me?"

It was his turn to be thrown off. He kept silent for a long time, and she was sure he wasn't going to answer, but then…

"No, I didn't want you." He said softly, but his voice was clear.

She released shakily the breath she didn't know she was holding. There was no reason to be surprised, or to cry: she expected that. That didn't mean anything.

"But you love me" she said, and it wasn't a question, it was said with so much assurance that even House couldn't find his way out of it.

He nodded curtly, looking away.

"I know." She said tenderly. He looked at her, and was amazed. She was smiling softy, gently, and she exuded so much love he felt liking crushing her to him. He didn't deserve that love, couldn't understand why she held so love much for him, the father she didn't know, the man who didn't know how to be a father to her. It was unnerving.

"That doesn't mean I'm a good guy, kid. That doesn't change anything" he warned.

"It changes everything" she replied confidently, her eyes wise beyond her age.

"She's something", he thought. "I didn't want you" he started

"I know"

"I never took care of you" he added

"I know"

"I preferred going to strip clubs instead of staying home with you and your mother" he pushed, his voice rising slightly. Why was she so calm, so relaxed? Why were her eyes so full of understanding and love?

"I know" came the monochord answer.

"I felt relieved when your mother told me she was leaving with you"

She sighed. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" he snapped.

"That!" she said, her hand gesturing between him and her. "Why do you want me to hate you that badly?"

"And how the hell do you not hate me?" he was starting to shout now, taking a step towards her. "Are you that stupid?"

She was the one with the piercing eyes now. "Maybe" she answered, "maybe I'm stupid, but I don't hate you, I can't, and I don't want to" she explained calmly.

"Look, maybe in this wild imagination of yours, you painted a beautiful portrait of me that you're sticking to. But I'm telling you kid, you should stop right now before you end up really hurt" he told her coldly.

Confused, she said: "You can't hurt me". When he didn't reply, she took a step closer. " It's like you said, you're not a good father, you sure don't act like one. I never see you, you're not even a part of my life. You don't know my friends' names, you don't know my favorite color, don't know what I like to read, don't know what I want to do when I grow up. You never ask about my school grades, about my holydays, about my dreams."

" Are you done?" he asked irritated; he was aware of that, but it hurt to hear it from Callie's mouth.

"See, you don't like me saying that, because you're not okay with being a bad father." He was about to speak, but she cut him. "What I'm trying to say is that, I'm not trying to see you as something you're not, I'm not trying to focus on your good points and forget about the bad ones just because I want to construct a positive image of you. I don't imagine anything. I don't need you to be a good father, I don't think I even want you to be one. I don't want you to change anything for my sake." She paused, looking down, feeling exhausted by this long awaited confession, but she also felt a lot lighter, like a heavy weight had been taken off her heart. She looked up at him, and smiled brightly, eyes wet. "I love you. I love you the way you are, and there's nothing you can do about it. I don't care about what mum says, I feel good when I'm with you. I feel home, and I don't give a damn about what you think. And if you…" the rest was muffled as he crushed her to him, like he had wanted to do earlier.

"Shut up, you stupid girl". He told her, his voice trembling. She couldn't see his face, hers was smothered by his shirt. But she didn't care. She was having trouble breathing, but she didn't care. Right now, she felt safer than she had ever felt, she felt like something between them had changed. It was an incredible feeling. His hold on her was strong, and he was pretty sure that if he didn't let go soon she would have bruises. The stupid girl. She was stubborn, she was overconfident, she was weird. She was stupid.

"My stupid stupid little girl" he whispered tenderly.

* * *

When Chase came back in the office, he found his boss and the young girl sitting in what seemed to be comfortable silent. He was playing his ball, as usual, and she was sitting on the floor, reading a book. She was the first one to notice him, and sent a smile his way. She was a cute kid. Which was quite surprising considering her father, but as Cameron had said, she was raised by her mother and wasn't really in contact with him. He had guessed so. He didn't know how he could have hidden her so long if she was actually living with him, besides, it was quite impossible to imagine House raising a kid. He almost shuddered at the thought. The child would end up being totally screwed up. But Callie wasn't anything like that, she was a pretty girl with an intriguing sharpness. _That _certainly came from House, but it was much more attractive on his daughter. She was still smiling at him, and probably expecting him to say something.

"Got the results from the lab" he told House.

"They're all negatives" was the answer he got from his boss who was still playing with his ball.

He did that every time, so why was Chase still surprised? "How did you…?"

"Because it's not Munchausens." House declared simply, like it explained everything.

"So what now?" Chase asked, at lost. They had tried out every hypothesis written on the whit board. House sighed, placed his ball back on the desk, then after a moment of reflexion got up and made his way to the door.

"Where are you going?" the young doctor asked.

House looked at him like it was obvious: "To see the patient, of course"

"Twice?" Chase asked, suspicious.

"Hey, I'll have you know I care very deeply for my patient. I'm hurt Dr Chase" House said, looking dramatically hurt. To witch Chase rolled his eyes, and Callie laughed. Speaking of her…

"Callie, why don't you go pester Cuddy for a while?" House asked the young girl who was still sitting on the floor.

"Sure" she replied with a bright smile, closing her book and getting up. She passed by the two men still standing at the entrance.

"And don't kill anyone" her father cried at her.

Turning around, she rolled her eyes at him. "I'm not a disease, you know".

"You're a kid and a female, it's about the same thing." House replied knowingly.

"Right" with that she turned around and headed to the dean's office.

"Sweet kid" Chase told House as they watch her walk away.

"She's too young for you Wombat"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Chase argued, offended.

"Really? You sound terribly defensive though. Why would you react so strongly if that wasn't what you meant?" House asked ,suspicious.

"Because it's absolutely revolting that you would think that I could…" he stopped as he noted the pleased look on the older man's face.

"I know" House replied with a smirk as he left the office, leaving Chase behind with an exasperate look on his face. He was making fun of him.

"That bastard" he muttered before following after the said bastard.

* * *

Callie was really excited to see her aunt Lisa. It had been so long, and she adored the woman. Following the instructions a nurse had given, she turned left and arrived in front of the dean's office. She peered inside, trying to see if she was here, or if she was busy. Entering, she was stopped by what she guessed was the secretary. A male, she noted with pleasure. "Good job, Aunt Lisa" she thought with a grin.

"Excuse me miss, may I help you?" the young man asked

"I'd like to see Dr Cuddy. Would you please let her know that Callie Warner is here ?" she replied sweetly.

The brown haired called, asked, and turned to the young girl.

"You can go in"

She did, and before she had the time to close the door behind her, she was swept into a fiery hug.

"Oh honey! I'm so happy to see you!" her aunt laughed as she released her.

"You too aunt Lisa. You look great" And she did, the tight black skirt showed off the curvy hips Callie envied so much, while her white top revealed just enough cleavage to make her look both sexy and classy. She still had that rich dark curly hair, those striking eyes and her present smile was lighting up her entire face. She looked radiant, Callie thought.

"Oh baby, you look more beautiful every time I see you. You're going to break so many hearts! And believe me, you'll enjoy every moment of it" she told with a wink.

Callie laughed. That's what she liked about her aunt, this crazy touch. That woman had some backbone. Scratch that, she had balls, Callie thought with a smile.

"What are you doing here?" Cuddy asked with enthusiasm. "Is your mother in town?". Callie knew that her aunt was good friends with her mother, they didn't really have the time to see each other, but each time they had come to Jersey, Lisa was the first one her mother called.

"No, I'm here with Mark" she replied with a shake of her head.

"Oh" came the disappointed answer. Her aunt had never appreciated the man, she knew. But then disappointment turned into suspicion. "And you're here? In this hospital? Does your mother know?" she asked with a raised brow.

Here we go again, Callie couldn't help but sigh. Her aunt wasn't stupid. "She doesn't, I persuaded Mark behind her back. Please, please, please, don't say anything to her! You know how she gets when it comes to him! I'm not doing anything wrong, I just want to spend some time with him" she begged.

"Callie" her aunt looked torn.

"Please!" she implored.

With reluctance, she agreed. "Okay, as long as Mark knows about this"

"He does" she assured, with a firm nod. "Liar!" her mind was yelling at her.

"Alright. Now come on, tell me! It's been so long since I saw you! What's new? How are things at school? Any new friends? Any boyfriend? What about music, are you still playing the piano?..." And so they spent an hour or so catching up, and Callie couldn't help but feel really happy about being reunited with this incredible woman she admired so much. The only one, she knew, who could somewhat keep her father on his toes. She was a tough one for sure, and Callie was pleased to know that this woman was close to him (well "close "was a big word, but when it came to her father…).

They were eventually interrupted when the secretary reminded the dean that she had a reunion starting in five minutes. With a sorry look, Cuddy excused herself and made Callie promise to come back see her before she left for New York. Callie watched her leave with a small smile and decided to head back to her father's office when she noticed the time. It was late, really late. Soon her father would be going home, and he was probably expecting Mark to come pick her up anytime now. Oh boy, she was in deep, she thought as she entered her father's office

* * *

She was biting her lips, praying that no one would notice that she was still here at his late an hour. But she wasn't so lucky.

"Well kiddo, any news from Clark ?" her father asked, legs crossed on his desk.

"Mark. And I told you, he said he'd pick me up at 7pm" she answered irritated.

"I know, that's why I'm wondering why you're not meeting him downstairs since it's 7:20 pm already" he told her, eyebrow raised.

Shit she thought. "Oh is it ? Damn, I didn't see the time go by" she laughed nervously. "Well I better be going. See you tomorrow." She waved clumsily and went to the door.

"You'll be here tomorrow?" her father asked, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah. Mark's here for a couple of days" she hesitated. Her lies were narrowing down on her. She couldn't keep this up for long. Soon she would be faced with two choices: go home, or tell her father the truth. Then he would call her mother, and she would end up going home. Either way, she knew that she would have to go back eventually. She wasn't really planning on moving in with her father anyway. But she wanted a bit more time with him, and she knew that soon enough, she would get caught; so she might as well make the most of it.

Her father nodded, without a word and watched her as she exited the room, while his three doctors waved goodbye at her. It was late, usually he was home at this hour, but the case was rather interesting, and if he was honest it gave him a good excuse to be with Callie a little longer. He knew that soon enough she would be leaving, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't get to see her anytime soon. With a sigh, he turned back to his team and his case.

* * *

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…". Callie splashed her face with some cold water in the toilets, trying to calm down and think about a solution for the night. She was fourteen so she couldn't rent a hotel room, it was also too late to think about taking a train home. "Idiot" she threw at her reflection in the mirror. Why didn't she think of that earlier?

"Okay" she said out loud, trying to rationalize. "Calm down Callie. This is a hospital, it never closes, they're not going to throw you out". Yes, that was a serious advantage. All she had to do was to not stay at the same place too long so she wouldn't get caught. And if she was, she could always say that she was waiting for somebody. Yes, yes, that could work. It _had_ to work.

* * *

Two hours later, Callie was feeling quite proud of herself. She hadn't got caught yet, no one had found her presence suspicious. She was hungry and decided to go get something at the distributor. Settling for a chips bag, a coke and a chocolate bar, she went back inside the waiting room where a few people were waiting for some news of their loved ones. She felt a bit guilty to be here with them, they all looked so stricken, so broken, so pained, that she felt like an imposter to stand in this room. Not feeling hungry anymore she went to give her chocolate bar to a little boy, whose mother, she had heard, was having a heart transplant. He took it with a small smile, while his father thanked her. She nodded, and decided to leave the room, unable to stand the grief that was filling it. Besides, she had noticed one of the nurses glancing at her with a frown. Now was a good time to move.

She wandered in the corridors, trying to be as discreet as possible. When finally she felt as if she would faint from the lack of sleep, she decided to enter the closest room she found. The stores were down so she couldn't see if someone was inside, but the light was definitely out. She went in without a noise and was disappointed to find the bed occupied by an old man. Groaning, she was ready to turn around and leave when she noticed something. Or rather the lack of something. It was a universal knowledge that men snored, and that it tended to go worse with age. But this old man wasn't; actually, she couldn't hear him breath at all. Oh my god, is he dead? she thought with a fright. She slowly made her way to the bed, and she placed a hand over his nose to feel if he was breathing or not; he was, barely though. She grabbed the file that was clipped to the bed and read. It was hard because of the darkness but the moonlight was bright enough to allow her to read the important parts: _Patrick Disher, 75 years old, ex-marine, widowed, father a three sons…"slipped in a coma_".

Damn. So he was kind of dead she thought as a wave of sadness washed over her. It had happened during the day, and his condition was slowly degrading. Her thoughts went to his sons. Glancing at the man, she whispered: "Don't worry Patrick, I won't leave you alone. I'll watch over you tonight". Softly, she put back the file. She then went to the chair that stood and the right side of the bed and curled up in it. It wasn't very comfortable, but it would do for the night. She introduced herself to Patrick, whispering even though there was no reason to, and started to tell him about her day. "To entertain him" she thought. Eventually, she fell asleep in the middle of a sentence, exhaustion taking over.

Had she read the last page of the file she would have known that the patient needed "to be checked every three hours" and that the doctor in charge was Doctor Chase. That would probably have saved her a lot of troubles...

* * *

Thank you for reading! Now, I'm not writing this story to get reviews, but it is a great support...


	8. Wake up

Hey guys! How are you all?

Thanks to margaux08, momsboys and RosemarieCraig for the amazing reviews. I love you!

And thank to Cellophane Catastrophy, Lady Isabella Black, physics is fun, Sarrasi, for adding this sotry to their story alert !

On with the story, hope I'm not boring you to death!

* * *

Chapter 7: Wake up

Dr Chase yawned tiredly, while trying really hard not to fall asleep. It was about 2 am and the whole team (minus House of course, the bastard was probably sleeping soundly in his bed) was still at the hospital working on the "mirror case". The patient's vitals had suddenly gone down, which was followed by a heart attack. They had to stabilize her, and thankfully her vitals were now constant. That's why Forman declared that it was time to go home.

Cameron agreed completely with him and so did Chase. But then he remembered the patient in room 254.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, groaning.

"What is it?" Foreman asked as he took off his medical coat.

"There's this patient I have to check on before leaving. Slipped in a coma today, I was the one who admitted him in" he explained while making his way out of the room.

"Wait! I'll come with you." Cameron said as she went after him. Her car had broken down yesterday and he had offered her a ride home, which she had accepted gratefully. "Since you're bringing me home".

He nodded, glad for the company. At least he wouldn't fall asleep on the guy. "See you Foreman"

"Yeah, bye guys." And with that the Eric Foreman headed towards the exit, happy to be finally able to get some sleep for a few hours.

"Come on" Chase said to Cameron as they walked through the deserted corridors. Arriving in front of the room; Chase turned the handle and went inside, followed closely by Cameron. The first person they noticed was not the old man lying in the bed, but the young girl curled up in the chair next to him.

"Callie ?" they both exclaimed wide eyed.

Said Callie who had been deeply asleep woke up with a yelp of surprise. Recovering, she looked around her to see what was going on, when her eyes fell on the two doctors who were watching her with bewildered looks.

"Oops " was the first smart thought to enter her brain.

"Callie, what are you doing here?" Cameron asked as she came closer. "Are you okay?" She added concerned.

"I'm fine" the girl answered, wiping the sleep away from her eyes. "I just fell asleep."

"We could tell that much. But what are you doing here?" Chase pushed, starting to panic. Something wasn't right here.

Sighing deeply, Callie understood that she couldn't get out of this one. So, too tired to even think about making up a new story, she confessed.

"I ran away" she explained looking at them. "My mother and I had a huge fight about my father. She didn't want me to see him, I found it unfair. So I took the first train to Jersey and here I am."

Both doctors looked at each other, worried.

"What about your stepfather?" Cameron asked

"Not here" Callie replied "there's no business trip."

Chase closed his eyes and winced. That was bad. The kid had run away from home, and changed state (for God's sake!) without telling anyone; her parents were probably going mad with worry.

"Okay, we're calling House" he declared, reaching for the door.

"NO!" Callie cried as she jumped from the chair to stop him. Grabbing his arm she looked up at him with panicked eyes. "You can't do that! He'll call my mother!"

"Yes, that's the point Callie. We need to tell your mother where you are, she's probably worried to death right now!" Chase told her, his tone reproachful.

Callie lowered her eyes for a minute, but she didn't let go of his arm. "I know." she whispered. "I know that she's worried, that she's scared out of her mind right." Looking back at him, she tried to convince him. "But I need this time with my father, and after this all thing blows up, she'll never let me even mention his name. I probably won't see him again until I'm of age."

Cameron who had stayed silent, watched the young girl with a sorry expression. She didn't approve her rash decision, but she understood why she did it. And she could see her point, Callie wanted to make the most of the little time she had left with her father. She threw Chase a pointed look.

"Come one Chase. The girl is safe here, let's give her more time with her father."

Callie's eyes lit up, whereas the blond man couldn't hide his shock. Was Cameron, the high matron of rules respect and morals, siding with a runaway kid?

"Do you realize what you're saying? Can you imagine the hell her parents are going through?"

" Please Dr Chase, please!" Callie begged. "Yes, they're worried, but I'm fine"

"They don't know that!" he cut her, raising his voice.

"I don't care!" she replied, yelling. "I don't give a damn about that right now! I would never have gone that far if she had given me chance to see him! I'm not a little girl anymore, and I'm not an idiot either! I know I have the moral and legal right to see him, and if she's not going to give me permission, fine, I'll do without it!". Calming down a bit, she sighed. "Look, Dr Chase, all I'm asking is that you give me one more day. Then…then I'll call her myself. Just… please, give me one more day with him before I lose him for another four years." Her voice was barely above a whisper now. She let go of his arm, feeling suddenly tired and cold.

Cameron was on the verge of tears now, and she came to stand behind Callie, putting her hands on the girl's shoulders. She stared at Chase.

He had to admit that the kid had a point. It wasn't fair of her mother to forbid her to see her father. He sure knew about dysfunctional families, he thought with a defeated sigh.

"Alright" he agreed reluctantly, praying that this all thing wouldn't blow up in his face later. But glimpsing down at Callie who was now looking at him like he was some sort of hero, he felt like it was the right thing to do. "But you are calling her tomorrow" he added sternly, when he saw her face lit up.

"Yes, yes, I will, I swear." she replied nodding her head fiercely. Then, unable to contain herself, and probably overwhelmed by emotions she wasn't used to feel, she hugged him softly. Cameron watched with some amusement as Chase put his arms awkwardly around the young girl.

She cleared her throat, and Callie stepped away from the embrace, looking at her. "There's still a tiny problem to solve. Where are you going to spend the night?"

Frowning, Callie replied that she could stay here, and that she would leave first thing in the morning.

"Impossible" Chase shook his head. "Patient has to be checked on every three hours, someone will catch you and they probably won't be as understanding as us"

"Besides" Cameron added, "we're not going to leave you sleep in a chair all night long".

Callie was becoming desperate now. "But I don't have anywhere else to go".

Cameron looked at Chase and then back at Callie: "You can come with me".

The young girl's eyes went wide. "What? Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to intrude. You shouldn't have to change your plans for me".

Cameron smiled. "Callie, it's 2 am, my plan was to go home and sleep."

Snorting, Chase corrected her "That's your plan for every night."

"Shut it" she snapped before turning back to Callie. "So, what do you think?"

"I don't know what to say" she replied, utterly grateful. "Thank you so much".

"No problem. Come one sweetie, I'm exhausted. It was a long day".

"You can say that again" Chase and Callie mumbled at the same time, as the three of them left the room.

* * *

"I think she fell asleep" Cameron whispered as she turned in her seat to get a look at the young girl, who was indeed asleep on the backseat of Chase's car.

"Well, she had a pretty crazy day, running away and all."

"She's a sweet kid." Cameron said softly. "I hope she won't get into too much trouble".

"I wouldn't bet on it. Ah, here we are". They parked in a small street; Chase cut the engine and got out the car as Cameron did the same, a bit confused.

"Hum, you don't have to walk me to the door you know" she told him, suspicious. She really hoped he wasn't imagining things between them. He was a nice guy, but that was it, there were no romantic feelings here. At least not on her part. "I mean I'm grateful for the ride, but I'm kind of tired now, and I don't want you to think that maybe you and I…" she was rambling now, desperate to let the young man down gently.

He just looked at her with a slight smirk and a raised brow.

"Ah, you're breaking my heart Cameron, but I was only going to help Callie to the door seeing as she's dead asleep". He was trying hard not to laugh at the flustered woman who felt like a real idiot right now.

"Oh". Okay, that was embarrassing. "Right. Callie. Sure."

He smiled, shaking his head and bent to wake the young girl up. Her face was toward him and she looked so peaceful, so angelic, in her sleep, that he decided against it. So he put one arm under her legs, another one around her shoulders and carefully maneuvered her out of the car, as Cameron watched them with a moved smile.

"Oh please" Chase huffed rolling his eyes. Now wasn't the time to get all emotional because he was carrying a sleeping teenager. He was tired, he wanted to go home and sleep, badly.

So the two doctors made their way to the little house with the yellow door. Cameron opened it, and Chase went in still carrying Callie in his arms. She was quite light for a girl her age, but he was still tired so he asked Cameron where the girl would sleep so he could put her down. She took him upstairs and into a small bedroom.

"Nice curtains" he commented with a rictus. The flower pattern looked like it came out from the 20s.

"Shut it and put her and the bed"

He did so, and felt Callie stirring as he put her on the pink colored bed. She looked at him with half-open sleepy eyes.

"Where am I?" she asked with a raspy voice.

Cameron stepped forwards. "At my place, honey" she answered softly.

Callie blinked at her, her mind a foggy mess. "What time is it?"

"Late" Chase replied above her, and she turned to him. How was it that she couldn't understand what was going on around her but still had the time to find him gorgeous? Stupid hormones. "Go to sleep kid, tomorrow's going to be tough".

Groaning, she did as he said; she put her head back on the soft cushion and fell asleep almost immediately. Chase looked at her for a moment, then waved goodbye at Cameron as she thanked him. He promised to pick them up in the morning to drive them to the hospital. And with that he left.

Cameron kneeled besides Callie to take off her shoes, and then drew the covers over her. Brushing a strand of hair that had fallen over the young girl's face, she prayed that they wouldn't get into too much trouble. She then left the room and went into her own for a much deserved few hours of sleep.

* * *

Not far from there, Gregory House was sitting on his couch, unable to sleep while Wilson was lightly snoring beside him. The oncologist had insisted to come by, fearing, for some stupid reasons, that House would be depressed after the day he had. Seeing his daughter again was certainly an emotional turmoil, but he wasn't about to cut his wrist open because of it. Stupid Wilson, always worrying over nothing. Still, it was 4 pm and House was unable to sleep; there was too much going on in his head. The day had gone rather well considering the sudden visit of his daughter but he knew very well that this tender reunion was going to get really messy when Stacy would find out where her daughter was. House actually winced at the thought.

"Can't sleep?" came the tired voice of his friend.

Gregory turned to him and rolled his eyes at his knowing expression.

"You do realize you're being a lousy friend? You pestered me to stay here tonight because you were so sure I was going to break down, and here you are snoring and drooling over my couch."

" I said I'd better be here in case you do something stupid, I didn't say I was going to watch you sleep" Wilson replied with a loud yawn.

Popping his bottle of Vicodin open, House took one and smirked at Wilson's frown. "Want one?" he asked pleasantly "It might cure your bad conscience."

Wilson stared at him, confused. "What are you…?"

"Oh please Jimmy" House interrupted him with his usual ironic smile. "We both know why you're really here. Looks like Julie is getting tired of smelling a different perfume every week on your shirt and kicked you out. Or is it that she hasn't noticed yet and you're just too weak to confront your wife when your mind is screaming "cheater!" at you."

James wanted to protest, wanted to say that he didn't know what House was talking about. But it was late and he was tired. So he confessed with a meaningful "Asshole".

With a satisfied smirk, House limped his way to the fridge and offered his cheating coward friend a beer.

"House, it's 4 pm. We're not drinking beer at 4 pm." But House knew there wasn't much conviction behind those words, especially when Wilson half-emptied his beer in one trait.

The two friends remained silent for a while, sitting on the couch and drinking beer. Then Wilson glimpsed at the other man.

"She's really beautiful" he said lightly.

House didn't blink. "I know. I did good"

"Really smart too" Wilson added

"I know. I did really good" the blue eyed man kept on staring ahead into nothing

"And funny"

"Are you asking me for her hand, Wilson?" House asked with a bored expression

Wilson didn't care. He wanted a reaction. "I'm sure Mark is a very good father to her"

That made House look at him. He knew full well what Wilson was getting at and he wasn't going to give him the pleasure of exploding. "Wow, stooping that low, James? You must be desperate to get some sort of reaction"

He was an asshole, James thought as he sighed. There was no winning with Gregory House.

"Aren't you even a little bit annoyed or, I don't know, jealous, that another man is raising your daughter?"

House smiled knowingly at that, remembering how Callie had explained that she couldn't call Clark (or whatever his name was) "dad" since she had met him. "Annoyed? What about? The guy did all my dirty work: the crying, the diapers, the hugs and all that disgusting stuff. Jealous? Of what? He's been the one taking care of her for the past fourteen years, yet she still lies to her mother and manipulates him to take her _here_ to see _me_". He was grinning now, feeling quite satisfied with himself.

"And you have no problem with that?" Wilson asked disconcerted. "The lying, the manipulation…that's alright with you?". To the proud smile he saw on his friend's face, Wilson had only one answer:

"Asshole"

* * *

Dr Cameron woke up to the delicious smell of fried eggs and bacon. Looking at her watch, she noted sadly that it was time to get up and prepare for another day in Dr House's service. The man was a genius, but he was also completely crazy. Always risking the patients' lives with impossible diagnostics, without any moral, any respect. And yet, he was always right. It was unnerving really. But Cameron couldn't help the admiration she felt for this man. He was something else, and if she thought about it, a breath of fresh air. He was just different, surprising, interesting, fascinating, sexy. She blushed at that thought, chastising herself. He was her boss, it wasn't proper to have this kind of feelings for him. Especially when his daughter was currently cooking her breakfast, she thought as she stepped in the kitchen, astonished at the scene before her: Callie was washing some dishes she had probably used to prepare the appealing meal lying on the table.

The young girl turned around, sensing her presence, and smiled brightly at the doctor

"Good morning Dr Cameron! You hungry?' she asked cheerily.

"Callie, you didn't have to do that!" Allison replied with a grateful smile.

The teenager shrugged, smiling. "After last night, it was the least I could do." At the woman's still amazed expression, she gestured to the chair. "Come on, sit down and eat."

They ate and made small talk. Cameron asked her about her life in New-York and Callie asked the doctor about her family and her childhood. Then, of course, came the subject of Gregory House.

"Is it hard?" Callie asked, curious. "Working for him, I mean."

Cameron hesitated, not sure how to answer. She didn't want to be rude, or to offense the young girl, but she didn't want to lie to her either (the poor girl had obviously suffered enough lie about her father). "Sometimes" she told her cautiously.

Callie smiled. "Dr Cameron, strange as it might seem, I know my father. I don't have any illusions on what kind of man he is, so you don't have to spare me"

Staring at her to make sure this wasn't some kind of ruse to get her to talk, Allison replied.

"Okay, truth to be told, he can be a real pain. He knows how to push your buttons, he knows how to be really hurtful, and can be heartless. Sometimes I wonder if he enjoys people's pain, because it looks like he doesn't give a damn about their feelings. And he's dangerous. As a doctor, you have responsibilities, and there are some rules you must respect to protect the patient. He doesn't care about all that, he just sees them as puzzles, and he's ready to do anything to solve them, even risking the patient's life. He's completely out of control, and can be a total asshole". She was talking fast, without breathing, and her cheeks were red. But then she paused, breathed hard and looked at Callie, whose eyes were wide open.

"But deep down, I know he's a good man. He's obsessed about the truth and weather he admits it or not, he helps people, advises them, and sometimes cares about them. He's absolutely brilliant. I've never met anyone like him, and I probably never will." she finished with a faraway look, and Callie knew there was something there, but she didn't press.

"Wow. He sounds like a real jerk". At Cameron's wince, she added: "But a good kind of jerk".

Snorting (which seemed a bit out of character, Callie thought) Cameron laughed a bit as she stood to put her dished in the sink. "Thanks for breakfast Callie. It was great. You should run away more often". She then bit her lips and her hand flew to her mouth as she turned to the young girl to apologize for her stupid comment, but she found Callie laughing, and felt immediately less guilty. "Sorry" she said sheepishly.

"You're fun Dr. Cameron" Callie dismissed her apology. It was nice to break away from all the drama and make light of the situation. Then, just as she stood, the bell rang.

"Our ride must be here" the doctor told her. "Go take your stuff". Callie ran back to the room, put on her shoes and coat, grabbed her bag and rushed downstairs where she saw Dr Cameron offering some eggs and bacon to the bond doctor. He greeted her as she came near him.

"Hey kiddo. Heard you made breakfast. Mind if I take a bite?" he asked but he had already finished the plate of eggs.

Shaking her head with a smile, Callie told him to help himself. He ate quickly and the three of them went to the door.

"Ladies" Chase said as he opened the door for them, and the two girls grinned at each other as they went to the car. The ride went nicely, but a nervous silent fell on the three of them when they neared the hospital.

"Okay" Chase started. "We can't go in together, it'll raise suspicions."

"Right" Callie and Cameron nodded.

"We can always say that we met by chance. That Callie and her stepfather are staying at a hotel near my place and that we just…met. So naturally I offered a ride" Chase tried

Callie frowned and Cameron shook his head. "That's a bit huge for a coincidence".

"Well, if you have a better suggestion, go ahead"

After a moment of hard thinking she offered: "Let's not say anything".

The two others looked at her like she had gone crazy.

"Huh, Cameron, that's not a suggestion, that's an anti-suggestion." Chase reasoned her

"No, no, no" she insisted "it's our best plan. If we come up with some nice shiny story House will suspect something. Here's what we're going to do: Chase and I get in together, Callie you stay in the car for a bit, and when you think it's been enough time, you come in".

Chase and Callie looked at each other. "It could work" Callie said raising her shoulders.

"It has to" he replied with a sigh. "Here are the keys, lock the doors when you get out".

"Okay" the young girl replied unsure, as she took the keys. She watched the two doctors get out of the car and make their way into to the hospital. Taking a book out of her bag, she slid down a bit to make sure no one could see her, and began to read, hoping that the time would fly away quickly and that her racing heart would slow down.

After what seemed to her like hours she decided it was safe to go now. She looked around to see if anyone was looking, and when she was satisfied that she wouldn't get caught she got out of the car, and locked it. Then she walked to the huge building.

Maybe, she should have stayed in the car…

* * *

When she reached her father's office, she could feel that something was wrong. It was oddly silent inside, but not the usual deep-in-thought silence, no this was a tense, nervous, anxious silence. And when three pairs of eyes stared at her as she stepped in the room, she knew that she was the reason behind the nasty atmosphere.

"What's wrong?" she asked fearful.

Cameron and Chase looked at each other, while Foreman went to stand before her. "You should go to Cuddy's office. Your father's there."

"Not anymore" came the irritated voice of said father. He was angry, she could tell, but not necessarily at her she noted as he focused on her. The piercing look was back. On his right side was her uncle Jimmy, who looked torn for whatever reason. And on her father's left side stood her aunt Lisa, with a deep frown. She too looked angry, though the object of her furor was obvious.

"How could you Callie?" she asked, her voice deep and disappointed. "You lied to me, straight to my face, you lied to everyone. Did you even think about your mother?"

Instantly, Callie's eyes went to Chase and Cameron who looked like they desperately wanted to run out of the room.

"You told them?" she asked, betrayed.

"No they didn't" Cuddy answered with a cold look to the two doctors. "Although they should have. It was me. I called Mark early this morning".

Callie went pale.

"You know why I called him ? Because I couldn't get a wink of sleep last night"

"Hoping for some phone sex with a married man, Cuddy? My, my…"

"Shut up House! I'm glad you find this whole situation amusing, but I don't! Your daughters ran away! You understand that? She. Ran. Away." She turned back to Callie. "I couldn't sleep because I kept thinking about our conversation over and over. It didn't seem right that Mark would hide something as huge as you seeing your father from Stacy, and she couldn't have possibly agreed to you going on this trip anyway. Mark was beside himself when I asked him about you. He and your mother were terrified, they've been looking everywhere for you! They've called your teachers, your friends, the police, the hospitals…"

"Not the right one apparently."

"SHUT UP House!" Cuddy took a deep breath. "They're on their way, they shouldn't be long now".

How right she was, was everyone's thought as a feminine voice yelled "CALLIE!" from across the corridor

Callie knew that her lies would lead her to this moment, the minute she bought her train ticket she knew that it wasn't going to end well, that there would be frowns, disappointment, anger, tears and yells. She was prepared for it, so she raised her head and turned to face the music.

"Hi Mum"


	9. A family's disunion

****Hey everyone, it's me again, with a new chapter !

So Callie's little adventure is over and it's not goign to be very pretty.

I knwo that there isn't much action for the moment, it's mostly about the characters feelings and thoughts, and I hope that's not boring you. This chapter will lead us to a new part of the story. It's probably the last time we see Callie as a teenager (though I'm not sure yet). you'll see, she'll soon become a permanent part of House's life! I personnally can't wait for the adult Callie to show up!

Hope you'll like it.

* * *

**Chapter : A family's (dis)union **

Her mother's steps were loud in the corridor as she ran towards her, Mark hot on her trail. She came crashing down on her knees, enfolding Callie in her arms with a surprising strength. She was crying, Callie could tell, as she felt her shoulders shake with incontrollable painful sobs. The young girl patted her mother's back trying to sooth her pain, but knowing that it would take much more than gentle words and embraces to repair the damage she had created in her family. Over her mother shoulder, she met Mark's eyes. He looked relieved… and sad… and hurt. Then she looked at her father, who was leaning on his cane, watching the scene with a distance she knew was (at least) partly faked. He stared at her, and his eyes were a whirlwind of mixed feelings that she couldn't really point out. But now wasn't the time to wonder about her father's feelings, now was the time to face the consequences of her decision.

Her mother's arms finally came loose. Stacy drew back to look at her daughter in the eyes. She was so unbelievably happy to have her safe in her arms. She thought she would go crazy when the school headmaster had called her asking where Callie was because she was missing classes. Her heart had stopped beating, and for a moment, she was sure she was going to die. She had then jumped on the phone to call Mark and tell him that their daughter, their precious baby was missing. They spent the entire day calling everyone they knew, driving in the neighborhood and searching the places Callie usually went to. They called the police, the hospitals, praying that someone would tell them that it was all a bad dream, that their girl was safe, and here with them.

The night had been even worse, something about the darkness outside was sickening. Who knew what kind of monsters were hiding out there? Who knew the horrors they could do to a little girl as beautiful as Callie? Neither slept, even though Mark insisted she needed some sleep, that she would be no help exhausted. But even if she had wanted to sleep, she couldn't have. It wasn't possible, not as long as her daughter wasn't back in her arms.

Lisa's call in the morning came both as the most beautiful news ever and the most painful ones. The intense joy they felt when they heard that Callie was safe and sound could only be matched by the terrible hurt of knowing that she had willingly left their side. Their daughter had run away from home, from them, she had lied straight to their faces, she had smiled as she said those lies, she had betrayed their trust in the most terrible way. She hadn't even left a message, a letter, a word, to reassure them. No, she had left without a care. And God, that hurt.

And the slap Callie received was certainly not nearly as painful. Still it left a bright red mark on the girl's cheek and a tensed silence in the corridor.

Callie watch as her mother's eyes filled with tears, already regretting slapping her. Her right cheek was throbbing, it felt like half her face was on fire, but she completely deserved it. She understood, and that's probably why she was the only one around who wasn't looking shocked, or disbelieving or angry. She looked strangely calm. It was weird really how her emotions were overwhelming when she was around her father, and were kept in perfect control when she was with her mother and Mark.

Cuddy felt the eyes of the unwanted audience that had gathered in the corridor to watch the scene. This wasn't the right place for family drama.

"Listen, I don't want to seem insensitive, but this isn't the place. People are watching and I'm sure you don't want that. Let's take this in my office, away from prying eyes." She told Stacy gently.

The woman was still kneeling in front of Callie, focused on her daughter, watching her like she didn't know who she was. "Maybe I don't" she thought, and her heart broke. She heard Lisa, understood the truth of her words, but couldn't get herself to move. Callie's voice was the one that reached her.

"Come on Mum, I know you hate to make a show of yourself. Let's get inside and talk about it" She took her mother's trembling hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. Stacy looked down at their joined hands, wondering about the burning sensation she felt on her skin where her daughter's hand was laying. Looking back at her, she wanted to scream at the blues eyes that looked so much like the ones that had haunted her for years as she tried to mend her damaged heart.

"Dr Chase, Dr Cameron, Dr Foreman, why don't you go check on your patient?" came Wilson's suggestion. The three doctors threw a worried look at Callie and went away a bit reluctantly though they really didn't want to be part of the terrible scene that was sure to follow.

"That was really subtle James. Although I don't see your point, it's not like Stacy has any problem crying, yelling and hitting a little girl in front of perfect strangers. Let the drama queen appreciate her audience, will you?"

Callie didn't know what went through her father's head as he said those words. Maybe he was seizing the occasion to get back at her mother, or maybe he was trying to divert her attention from Callie. Whatever the reason, it was a bad move.

Her mother's nostrils were dilated, and she was breathing hard. In a swift motion, she was up and lunging at the man while yelling at the top of her cords.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD ! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! I HATE TOU! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!"

It took both Mark and Wilson to drag her inside House's office, as Lisa ushered Callie inside as well. House came in, limping slowly, unphased by his ex's violent outburst.

"And how is it my fault, Stacy? Huh? Can you tell me that? How is it that I should be the one at fault when I haven't seen Callie in four years? Isn't that the reason you took her away from me? To make sure I wouldn't make this kind of mistakes? Well, it's hard when you don't have anyone else but yourself to blame, isn't it?" he asked, taunting.

Mark had still his arms around his wife; ready to hold her back if she had another urge to kill her ex-boyfriend. He could understand her pain and her anger. He was himself badly shaken up, and a part of him thought that it would help to punch Gregory House right now. Another part thought about Callie who was in the room and looked terrified. No, he wouldn't let things go out of control in front of his little girl. Even if she was partly responsible for the actual situation.

"Don't you dare!" came Stacy's trembling voice. She was shaking with rage. "Don't you dare put this on me! You don't have any idea what it is to care for a child! You don't know the sacrifices I had to make! You don't know anything, because you were so damn busy fucking whores and drinking to death to even look at your daughter!"

"So we're back to that, are we now Stacy? Don't you ever get tired of the same old disk ? Let's talk about the part of her life where she was with you, that's to say all her life. Are you actually trying to make me a bad influence when I see her once every five years ?" House asked disbelieving.

"If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened!" Stacy yelled back.

"Right! Because I'm the one who called her and forced her to run away from you so she could spend some time with me here!". Now he was getting angry. Wilson and Cuddy watched a bit worried, as House raised his voice, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"I don't know what you told her, but she sure as hell wouldn't have even thought of running away if you weren't the sick jerk that you are! I'm sure you said something to her! You were always trying to take her away from me!" Stacy replied, pointing at him furiously.

"Do you hear yourself?_ I_ tried to take her away from _you_? Don't inverse the roles now! I'm not the one who decided to leave one evening with my baby in her arms! And from what I know, I'm not the one who was sleeping around!". He knew it was vicious, but damn it all to hell, all is anger and frustration, all his pain from that night, fourteen years ago, came rushing back to him and he wasn't about to let go of his only chance to finally say what had been on his mind for more than a decade now.

But it wasn't Stacy's voice that answered him. It was Callie's.

"What?" she asked, shell shocked. She had been silent until now, watching her parents yell their hearts out, and she never thought that it would get that messy. She had imagined the fight between her mother and her, even between Mark and her. But she didn't think about the confrontation between her father and her mother. It was sad how the two of them still suffered from the past. And it turned out that the past wasn't exactly what she had been told. "Mum? What is he talking about?".

Her mother's pale face turned to her. "Don't listen to him. You see what he's trying to do? He's trying to turn you against me!". But Callie noted with horror that her body language betrayed a feeling that shouldn't have been there: nervousness. Her mother was nervous, she was defensive. That was worse than a confession. No, it couldn't be.

"Why would he do that?" she asked doubtful. "It makes no sense. You said it yourself, he doesn't care about me. So why would he try to take me away from you?"

House was seeing red now. "Is that what you told her Stacy? That I didn't give a shit about her? Looks like you made up a real fairytale here. I admit that your version of the story is much more appealing. So where is the part in which the Ice Queen explains to her daughter that she's a lying cheating bitch?"

"Well, what was I supposed to do, huh, Greg? Was I supposed to sit quietly at home and wait for you to return from strip clubs? Mark was there for me when you weren't, he dried the tears that _you _made fall, he mended the heart that _you_ broke by sleeping around!"

Strangely, House seemed to calm down at that. Yes, he had hurt her, but it wasn't fair of her to accuse him of things she knew he hadn't done. For the first time, he felt some sort of pity for the crying woman in front of him.

"Stacy, we both know very well that I never touched another woman when I was with you"

"The strip clubs…" she began to yell

"The strip clubs were for Wilson and you know that" he interrupted her firmly.

There was silence then.

"I can't believe it" Callie's broken voice whispered. Glancing at her uncle James, she found in his sorry eyes the truth she didn't want to acknowledge. "I can't believe it" she repeated. Turning to her mother she begged for another explanation. "Anything would do" her eyes were screaming, but her mind knew better. Apparently her gift at lying was genetic. Only, she never thought it would come from that side of the family.

Stacy looked at her daughter, desperate. She couldn't let this destroy her family. So she went back to the only defense she had: blame House. "Baby, baby, listen to me." She implored as she reached or her daughter, flinching when she took a step back. "He's lying. You know he is."

"Why would I lie about this?" House asked her gently. " I never pretended to be a good father. Callie knows this. Why would I try to save my image now?" he reasoned.

"To punish me!" Stacy yelled at him. " To fucking punish me for your fucking leg! You never forgave me! Never! And now you want to make me pay for it! You want me to suffer like you did when you woke up and found out that I had given them permission to amputate you muscle, even though you had me promised that I wouldn't!" The tears were flowing openly.

"What?" Callie didn't know what was happening, but it seemed like her entire world was crashing down around her and she was losing balance in the chaos. "What the hell are you talking about? You did this to him?" she asked bewildered, as she gestured to her father's cane.

"Now Callie, Stacy made a difficult choice that ended up saving you father's life" Cuddy explained cautiously.

"You don't know that" House grumbled.

Cuddy threw him a hard look.

"And all these years you were telling me about his "accident" you didn't think it was important to mention how it really happened? What about the junkie part? Does it have anything to do with the Vicodin he takes because he's hurting? Don't you think it was worth mentioning instead of making me believe that he was high one heroine or stuff like that?" Callie asked her mother, hurt, betrayed, broken.

It was surreal, Stacy thought as she watched her family being destroyed. How was it that she ended up being the bad guy after everything she had done to protect her daughter? How was it that the guy who cared about nothing but himself was turning out to be the hero? Exhausted, empty, Stacy sat hard on a chair, as she felt her strength suddenly leave her body.

Mark went to stand behind her, not knowing what to do or to say to make things better. He simply put his hands on his wife's shoulders, trying to give her some of his own strength. Callie stood where she was, a part of her wanted to go to her mother, to comfort her, to ask for forgiveness and to forgive her, but another part was yelling at her that years of lies couldn't be forgiven because of a few tears. And the latter part was apparently stronger than the first one, because she looked at her mother, but didn't move, and there was nothing forgiving in her eyes.

House and Wilson stood side by side, facing Stacy and Mark, Wilson was looking down, and House was focused on the couple in front of him. Everything was silent and somber.

Finally, Cuddy broke the silence. "I'm sorry, but I have to get back to work." She said apologetically to everyone. House nodded at her, as did Wilson while Stacy didn't seem to hear her. Cuddy addressed her. "I know this is a hard time for you, but I'm sure that everything is going to be fine" she tried to reassure her, but if she was honest with herself, she wasn't so sure. With a last encouraging smile to Stacy, and a pat on Callie's head, she left the office.

"So what now?" Wilson voiced what everyone was thinking. Yes, What now? How do you move on from a crisis like that? How do you repair things?

For a moment, silence was his only answer. And then…

"I'm not going to apologize" Callie stated firmly to her mother.

The latter looked up at her daughter, and Callie felt her heart constrict at the broken look she saw there. Her mother seemed ten years older, her eyes were empty, her cheeks wet with tears, her face so pale. Still, she couldn't bring herself to feel sorry.

"I'm sorry that I put you through hell, but I'm not sorry for what I did." She explained, and she felt her father's and uncle's stare on her. "You're my mother and I love you. I'll never thank you enough for everything you've done for me. But…you shouldn't have lied to me. You shouldn't have prevented me from seeing my father. I don't care what happened between you guys, that's in the past, and it's not my problem if you can't let go of it. He's my father, and you can't keep me from him".

"Mark is your father; he's the only father you've know, the only one who took care of you. I understand that you're mad at me, but you're being cruel to him" Stacy replied softly and she felt the hands her shoulders squeeze her tightly.

Callie looked at her stepfather for the first time since he had arrived. He was staring at her with bright hopeful eyes, and she guessed her mother hadn't been the only crying. Yes, she was being cruel. The man had been nothing but sweet and loving with her, and she wasn't even his own child. She was an ungrateful brat.

"I never wanted to hurt you Mark." And she saw him flinch as he usually did when she called him by his name. "I'm sorry I can't call you "Dad" anymore. I…it's just…" she glimpse at her father, "things are just different now. But you know I care deeply about you" and he flinched again, because she never said "I love you" to him. Callie sighed. She was doing this all wrong. "You're my family, and nothing, no one is ever going to change that".

He nodded at her, but didn't say anything. She supposed he didn't want to break down in front of the two other men.

She looked back at her mother. " I hope you understand that things have to change from now on."

Stacy frowned, not liking the sound of that.

"Mum!" Callie called, exasperate. "You can't expect things to go back to the way they were, we can't pretend nothing has happened! From now on, I want to be able to see him as much as I want. And you have to let him see me if wants to!"

"Callie…" her mother looked pained

"No! I'm not going back home until you promise me!"

Mark stepped in. "Callie, now is not the time or place. Let's go home and then we'll talk about it calmly". She didn't miss the emphasis he put on the last word and the reproachful look he gave her. It meant "don't talk to you mother that way".

"You go home and talk all you want, but I'm not moving from here until you promise!" She crossed her arms and held her stepfather's stare.

"And where are you going to stay?" her mother asked smartly.

Callie shrugged. "I managed for one night, I'll find a way. It's not going to stop me."

"What about school? Your friends?" her mother replied, her voice high.

"She can go to school here"

Every pair of eyes turns to the man who has just spoken.

Stacy looked at him like he had grown green hair. "Oh yeah? And where will she live? With you?" she asked with so much irony it made Callie flinch.

House paused for a moment before answering.

"Yes".

Many things happened at the same time. Wilson put a solid hand on his friend's shoulder, looking awfully proud of him, Stacy burst out laughing. Mark seemed panicked and tried to calm down his wife, fearing for her mental state as she kept on laughing hysterically. Callie for her part, was staring at her father, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. She couldn't believe it. He had offered her to come live with him. Was he serious? He certainly looked that way. Could she do that? Could she abandon her mother and stepfather who had taken care of her entire life to go live with her estranged father? Did she have the right to do that?

Looking at her mother, who was still laughing like a mad woman, she got a glimpse of what would happen to her family if she accepted her father's offer. Besides, now wasn't the time. She was still a kid, though she hated to admit it, she still needed someone to take care of her. Her father wouldn't like this life, she wasn't sure she would like it either. She didn't know what had pushed him to suggest she comes live with him. Was it to spite her mother? Did he want to prove her something? Or prove himself something?

"No" she told her father softly. He turns to look at her, and she was relieved to see there was no hurt, no pain in his eyes at her rejection. He nodded at her and she smiled. They understood each other that way. He didn't understand himself where that offer had come from. He wasn't even sure he was up to the task. He probably wasn't, but for once, he was willing to try. It was better than not seeing Callie at all.

Stacy calmed down, and smirked at House, triumph writing all over your face. She was taunting him, and the old him would have probably thrown some nasty comment at her, just to wipe that smirk of her face. But one look at Callie, and he understood that if this was fight between Stacy and him, he had won. Without a doubt.

"Now Mum, you still have to promise. I won't hesitate to take him up on his offer if you don't."

Stacy rolled her eyes. "There are rules and laws, Callie. You can't just do as please."

"Just watch me" she replied, her tone challenging. "I'll run away again, and you can be sure that the nest time you'll never find me. I'm not above that".

The staring contest between mother and daughter was interrupted by Mark.

"She means it" he told Stacy sadly. "She'll do it".

Reluctantly, almost as if it was physically painful, Stacy uncrossed her arms and looked down. She sighed, defeated.

"Alright" she whispered to Callie, but her eyes were on House.

Glancing at her father and uncle, Callie smiled slightly at them, but it was so full of sadness that House wanted to look away. This was wrong, this was so terribly wrong.

"Let's go home" Callie said to her parents. Things weren't solved yet, they had still a lot of talking to do and Callie knew that nothing would ever be the same again with her family. But, it was a necessary evil, she decided, and it was time to face it. Stacy and Mark stood up without a word, making their way to the door. Callie followed, then stopped and turned to her uncle.

"It was good to see you again Uncle Jimmy". He nodded furiously and picked her up in one of his famous bear hugs. His embrace was so warm, so safe, that she felt the urge to cry. Biting her lips to keep her tears at bay, she kissed his cheek softly.

He let her go, and patted her hair with a gentle smile. "Be good kid."

She smiled and went to stand in front of her father. He stared at her, he didn't talk, he didn't move. He just looked at her, like he was memorizing every little detail convinced that the next time he would see her she would be completely different. Slowly, she put a hand over the one holding his cane. It was cold and bit calleous.

Staring up at him she gave him a tender smile.

"See you soon…Dad."

And with that she followed her parents out of the room and left the hospital, as the two men watched her leave.

One of them had strangely bright eyes.

* * *

Sooooo, what do you think? Which one of the two doctors had tears in his eyes?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope that I will hear from you guys!


	10. INTERNSHIP people !

Helloooooo people! How are you all doing?

As usual, I would like to adress my deepest thanks for those sweet reviews. HOUSEocdfan and margaux08, you rock! And also, thank you to HOUSEocdfan for adding me to your favorite stories, and to MrsBock and Ravotrina for adding me to your alerts. You don't know how grateful I am.

Well guys, with this chapter we take a huge step forward...Callie is now 23 and starting her first day of internship. I know it seems too young, but I did the maths, and considering she graduated earlier (remember she's two years ahead) I think it's possible. Now I really need feedback on this chapter, because I'm not sure about its quality. Do you think I should write another one that would act as a transition between teenage Callie and adult Callie? I was thinking of having her remember some parts of her growing years as the story goes one so that you're not left in the dark about this period of her life.

I realise that chronology might be a bit probelmatic: when Callie was fourteen, Chase Cameron and Foreman were alreday on the team, now it's been eight years and they're still on the same team with no change of status, but it's important for the story that they remain in House's team. Let's also pretend that medical studies aren't as long as they really are (and it's pretty hard to believe that Cameron and Chase are a year over 35 when the actors that play their parts must be 30).  
I hope you won't hate me for those incoherencies.

And about the pairing, it might not be the most obvious one..or it might...;)

Anyway, tell me what you think about it, it's really, really important for me to know if you're satisfied with the turn this story is taking. I'll rewrite this chapter if you deem it necesseray, just...please...help me out there.

Thank you very much.

I hope you'll enjoy it!

* * *

Chapter 9 : INTERNSHIP people!

-Man, look at her!

-Ah, let it go Jake, she's waaaay out of your league!

- Well, a guy can dream, right?

- You can saucy dream all you want my friend, but you don't stand a chance with that girl!

Said girl was currently listening to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital's dean as she wished new interns welcome. Intern…boy did the time go by. Seemed like just yesterday she was graduating from highschool and now, at 23, she was up for her very first day of internship. INTERNSHIP people! On the inside, she wanted to cry out, she wanted do dance, she wanted to hug someone. On the outside, she looked perfectly calm and composed, her attention fixed on Dr Cuddy's welcome speech.

She sure had come a long way to stand where she was right now. Well, "long" wasn't exactly the word for it. Not everyone graduated at 16 and ended up intern in a prestigious hospital at 23. No, it didn't take long to get there, but it had been a rocky road, for sure. Completely oblivious of the two men that were staring at her with enamored eyes, Callie, once again, let her mind wander.

Things had definitely changed after that fateful day where she had run away from home at age fourteen. The ride home had been quiet and stuffy. Mark was driving; he kept glancing at her mother who still looked pale. No one talked. No one cried. No one did anything. Callie felt like she was suffocating on the backseat, and she wondered for a moment if this was how her life with her family would be from now on. "Of course not" she chastised herself, "it's just a hard time that we all have to go through". Yes, easier said than done. Once home, they still weren't talking. They dined together, as usual, but there was no speaking. Then one by one, they went to sleep, without a word.

The next morning, when Callie went down to have breakfast, it seemed like nothing had happened. Her mother and stepfather were their usual sweet happy selves, and they greeted her with smiles and pet names. She could have almost believed that everything from the past two days had been a dream, but something in her mother's eyes, in her body language, told otherwise. She was smiling, but there was a twitch that wasn't there before. Her eyes were tender, but a shadow was flickering in them. Yes, things had changed. For good. Callie wasn't sure if it was good or bad. She didn't voice her thoughts, she played her part well. And when came the time for school, she was surprised to see that her mother had left before her. She hadn't waited, like she did every time, to give her that kiss on the forehead and tell her that she loved her. Callie felt bad when she realized that she was quite relieved to see the routine end.

Telling her friends about her little adventure was another thing. Amanda's first reaction was to yell at her that she was a "crazy suicidal mental idiot!", her second one was to grin proudly at her, declaring that she had officially become her hero. With a unsure smile, Callie had thanked her and they had made their usual way to class, where her teachers had welcomed her gently, telling her that they were glad to see that she was alright. But she noticed the slight worry in their eyes, and felt that their opinion of her had somewhat changed. Like they were fearing an extreme reaction from her part at some point. Eventually, they grew out of it, but now and then, a teacher would call her after class to ask if everything was alright and to remind her that if she wanted to talk their "door was always open". She appreciated the intention, but found it a bit exaggerated of them to see her as some psycho emotionally fragile teenager because she had run away to see her father once.

Speaking about him, Callie wondered how her relationship with him would be affected by her presence in this hospital. Making sure her mother kept her promise to let Callie see her father as often as she wanted hadn't been easy, but her threat had worked efficiently and her mother had yielded with reluctance. So Callie had the great pleasure of having her father over barely a month after her little escapade to see him. He had stayed the weekend in New-York (in a nearby hotel though Callie had asked him to stay in the guestroom, but none of the adults were really at ease with this arrangement). She also got to see him in Jersey, but always under one of her parents' supervision. Her father had grown to be quite an important part of her life, and the more she saw him, the more she learned about him, the more she discovered how much she was like him.

To her mother's dismay, Callie found herself becoming more and more like her father. She wasn't like him per say, but she had many of his characteristics, but on a softer level: she had maintained that distance towards people, and if she (contrary to her father) had many friends, she still wasn't at ease with confiding in them. She was quite the social person, and well liked in general, but the barrier was still there. It unnerved many people, especially her boyfriends who felt like no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't really get to her. It felt like she kept a part of her to herself alone, and a few of her relationships had ended because of that distance she kept.

Like her father, she was remarkably brilliant, and was pretty good at reading character. She could detect lies almost every time. She found herself thriving in medical studies, she enjoyed beer way more than sweet cocktails, had a real gift at music (she took her Yamaha guitar everywhere), preferred comfortable clothes to smart ones, didn't really care about what was politically correct, could be a "damn sarcastic bitch" according to Amanda, and she was right most of the time. She secretly rejoiced every time her mother complained about those traits, because she knew that they were all her father's.

However, she also felt proud of her differences with him: she was unbelievably intelligent, that left nod doubts, but she wasn't the genius he was and didn't enjoy being the center of attention. She loved science but didn't feel the need to explain everything and thought it was important to preserve some parts of mystery and that some things were better left unknown. She found beauty in silly things, like snow or rain, or a smile, and didn't give a damn when that caused her father to call her "stupid girl". She tended to distance herself from people but still appreciated their company, and if she thought her time alone was precious, she also enjoyed being surrounded. She could be sarcastic, and knew almost immediately when she could outsmart someone, but didn't try to hurt them. And if she was right most of the time (which got on her mothers' nerves), she didn't feel overly proud of it (which got on her father's nerves).

The only major problem that had developed over the years was her relationship with her mother. Stacy, if she had tolerated the growing closeness between daughter and father, couldn't deal with the distance that seemed to be growing between Callie and herself. It had begun the day Callie had declared she wanted to go to medical school. That happened during her valedictorian graduating speech to the huge surprise of her mother, while her father and godfather were grinning proudly, like they knew, and she bet they did. The truth was, Callie seemed to confide much more in them than in her parents, and Stacy didn't appreciate being left in the dark. So when Callie had made her way to her family, she received a hug from her uncle, a kiss from her father, a pat from Mark and a glare from her mother.

- "Don't you think you should have told me you were thinking of medical school instead of making me look like a bad mother that doesn't even know what her daughter wants to do with her life?"

Everyone had sighed, and that only helped fueling Stacy's anger. She hated to be seen as the bad guy, and it seemed to be happening more and more often lately as her relationship with her daughter was worsening.

Callie winced as she remembered the terrible fight they had one night. She was in second year of medical school, and her father and uncle had come to spend a few days in New York for a medical seminar. She had been delighted and had spent every minute of her time with them. Her mother didn't appreciate. It was Mark's birthday Friday, and he had said that he didn't want a party, just a nice diner with his "favorite girls". The three went to a nice restaurant, and when the waiter came with the dessert card, Callie declined telling that she didn't have the time.

"What do you mean you don't have the time?" her mother asked, brows frowned and ready to argue. "This is Mark's birthday, Callie!"

"Yeah, I know that. I offered him his present this morning and I just had dinner with you guys just like he wished. So I don't see what's your problem." Callie replied as she put on her coat.

"My problem? Could you be more insensitive? The least you could do is spend the evening with him!"

"Don't worry about.." Mark began

"No mark! That's intolerable!" Stacy turned to her daughter. "Whatever it is you're supposed to do, I'm sure it can be postponed. So sit back and have dessert with your family!"

"Sorry, it can't be postponed" the young woman said firmly. "And I don't understand why you're so upset over this when Mark obviously doesn't have a problem with me leaving. We said dinner, we had dinner, I'm leaving, end of story" she reasoned as she put her long hair out of her coat.

Stacy had paused for a moment.

"You're going to see him, aren't you?" she asked with a deadly stare.

"Yes, he's taking me to Monster Trucks"

That did it for Stacy. She threw her napkin, stood up and started to yell at her daughter, as every pair of eyes turned to her. Said daughter apparently didn't care, for she bent to kiss Mark on his cheek, wishing him a happy birthday, and grabbing her shoulder bag, she turned her back to her still screaming mother, and left the restaurant.

When she got home after the show with her father and uncle, her mother greeted her with the same volume and the same words, to which Callie eventually reacted by declaring that she wanted to get out of the house for a while and that she was moving in with Amanda and her brother for a few days. Her mother never forgave her for that, and a few days with Amanda turned into weeks, then months. Eventually, she moved back home, as did brother and sister when Ted lost his job and the three friends realized that they couldn't pay the rent anymore.

But the tension between Callie and her mother never dissipated, and it reached its climax when the young woman decided that she wanted to do her internship at PPTH. Once again, her mother had yelled while Mark had smiled sadly. It looked like those were the only smiles he had left. Things were hard on him, Callie realized. He was always torn between "his girls" and Stacy had noticed that the tended to side with Callie. He would always defend himself by saying that they were a family and that "there aren't any sides in family", but his wife would have none of it, and Callie often found him asleep on the couch. It pained her really to be the cause of so much damage, but she couldn't live by her mother's rules anymore. And for God's sake, she was 21, she had the right to lead her life as she pleased. Still, her heart went out to Mark. She had grown softer on him since she understood the price he had to pay every time he showed her support, and truth to be told he supported her in each and every one of her decisions. She was deeply grateful to him, and she realized that she would certainly miss him the most.

Her attention was brought back to reality, and she realized with guilt that she had missed out most of her Aunt Lisa's speech. Ouch, that was going to be another problem. She wondered if the beautiful dean had spotted her among the other interns. Eventually she would have to go to her and explain things, especially the part about her submitting her application for internship under a false name.

Even though she trusted Lisa's professionalism, a small part of her was terrified of special treatment. She didn't want to be accepted here on the sole argument that she knew the dean. No, she wanted to be treated like any other applying sudent, and that's why she submitted her file in the name of Amanda Twilocks. Her friend, who was more than happy to be a part of the little crime ("I love badass Callie!" she had said), had decided to go to Jersey with her. The two girls were moving in a small but decent place in town, where Amanda had found a job as a clerk in a menswear shop. While Callie attended her first day at the hospital, her blond friend was probably already unpacking with her brother's help.

"Already bored?" a voice whispered to Callie. She turned to the girl on her right. She was of Asian descent, with beautiful black straight long hair and a bright smile. Callie shook her head.  
"Huh huh, just lost in my thoughts" she explained.

"That's another way to say bored" the girl replied, and Callie instantly liked her. "I'm Talia Satsu".

"Callie Warner" she shook her hand.

"Well, Callie Warner, looks like we're going to hell on the same ship"

The blue eyed beauty smiled. "Yo-ho!"

* * *

"Amanda Twilocks, huh?" the older woman asked with a smirk.

Callie winced guiltily. The reunion had ended a few minutes ago, and the young woman, after throwing a "see you!" at her new friend, had made her way to the dean, and asked if maybe she could have a word. The latter had looked at her with astonishment before understanding. Rolling her eyes, she had lead Callie to her office.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I just didn't want any special treatments."

Lisa sighed. "I understand that Callie, but I must admit I'm hurt you would think so lowly of me"

"It's not like that!" she urged to explain, "You know I think highly of you and I admire your professionalism. I just, I don't know, I just wanted to prove myself something. But it was stupid of me. I'm sorry."

Lisa stared at her for a moment, and Callie held her gaze. "Alright Callie, But you have to understand that there are certain rules to respect if you want to keep a residency in this hospital. And rule number one is :no more lies"

"No more lies I swear"

"And I want you to change your name on the file."

"Right away"

"And I'm awfully proud of you"

The young woman paused, then smiled so brightly it lighted the entire room up.

"Thanks Aunt Li…I mean, Dr Cuddy, sir" and she tried hard not to laugh.

"The "sir" part wasn't necessary smartass." The dean glared at her. "Now get out of here".

With a last smile, Callie exited her office to start her very first day at PPTH.

Watching her leave, Cuddy shook her head. One more House in the hospital…this year was sure to be entertaining.

* * *

"Hey , Foreman! New interns today!"

"Ah, most beautiful day of the year" replied the black doctor with a dreamy smile.

"You guys are pigs" Dr Cameron commented, disgusted.

Both men turned to her, smirking. "Oh come on, Cameron, we're just looking."

"Those girls are way too young!" she exclaimed

Chase snorted. "Says the woman who's in love with a dirty bastard who's twice her age".

Cameron glared at him, while Foreman tried to hide his laugh. It was no secret among the team that the female doctor was having a deep crush on their boss, which neither of the men could understand. They supposed House wasn't bad looking (as far as they could judge as male) but the man was a real jerk, and Cameron, overly emotional Cameron, knew that. But she still blushed when he looked intensely at her, and glanced at him when she thought no one was looking. It was sad to watch, really.

Chase had felt attracted to her. Who wouldn't? She was a beautiful woman, with nice curves, she was smart and she was a good doctor. What was there not to like? They had tried something, and had realized almost immediately that it wouldn't work. Now and then they had some friendly sex, but that was about it. Besides, Chase wasn't really looking for a serious relationship; his last one had lasted five years and had ended dramatically two years ago. Now was the time to have fun, and interns sure were fun. If he was honest, he didn't always satisfy himself with "just looking". Interns threw wild parties, and if you knew how to play your cards well, you had every chance to get invited and to go home with a pretty newbie. Being an accomplished doctor kind of helped: he could see the look of admiration on their faces when he talked about a case.

He knew Foreman was a bit more reluctant to actually go all the way with an intern, but he also knew that it had happened more than once.

"Hello people. We've got a case. 43 year old male, admitted yesterday, with partial paralysis." House made his way in the room, interrupting Chase's and Foreman's fantasies.

"That's it?" Cameron asked, surprised. "I don't see how that's an interesting case for you. "

"Did I mention that the patient's mouth and nose keep on bleeding?"House looked at her over his shoulder as he began to note the different symptoms on the whit board.

"Alright people, go!"

"Endocarditis?"

"Aplastic anemia?"

" Sjogren's syndrome?"

"Okay, let's stop at these three for now" House declared as he wrote down their suggestions. Then turning around. "Interesting. Three doctors, three diagnostics. Let's see which one of you is the smart one. You've got carte blanche with the patient. Do what you have to do. And let the fun begin!" He cried enthusiastically as all three doctors exited the office with pained expressions.

* * *

Why did he have to make a game out of everything? Chase thought exasperated as he made his way to the lab. He was going for the Sjogren's syndrome and needed to run some tests. Grumbling about House and his sick games he stepped in the lab only to stop dead in his tracks.

"Oh. My. Fucking. God" was his first bright thought as he laid eyes and the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. There, studying samples under the microscope was a young woman. And she was breathtaking. Long dark curly hair that fell across her back, a thin frame hidden under a white coat that, he was sure, didn't do any justice to her lithe body. She had a fair complexion and her skin looked deliciously soft. Small plump lips, and – have mercy – dimples gave her a subtle sexy aura while her clear blue eyes completed the stunning picture that she was. She looked young – too young to be anything but a patient in a hospital - and soft. This woman was beauty itself, Chase couldn't help but think and when she looked up at him, he let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding.

Her bright eyes widened when they set on him with something akin to recognition. But that was impossible; he would have remembered a woman looking like that. Still, there was something in those eyes, something…familiar?

She smiled at him, and he melted.

"Did you need something Dr. Chase?" came a strong masculine voice. Chase looked behind the goddess, to see that she wasn't alone in the room. There were two other young looking doctors and the doctor Schwartz, head of the Immunology Service. The old man was staring at him, obviously expecting an answer.

"Tests" he replied curtly, glad to find his voice was sounding normal.

"I could have guessed that. Whatever for?" Dr Schwartz snapped.

Oh he hated that old Grinch, as if he didn't have enough of his moody boss.

"Frederic Jansen, Sjogren's syndrome"

"Warner…" began the aged doctor.

"I'm on it". The angel got up from her chair and walked over to Chase to take the samples from his hands. As she came closer, he could smell a light fragrance. Something discreet yet he found the sweet smell intoxicating. Hypnotized by the beauty in front of him he missed her questioning look.

"Hum, Dr. Chase?" she asked tentatively.

He looked down to see that he still hadn't let go of the samples. Apologizing, he handed them over quickly.

"Damn it" he muttered before thanking her and leaving. He couldn't help one last look at…Warner was it? and was quite happy to find her looking back at him.

God, those eyes…where had he seen them before?

* * *

Callie watched with a smile as the blond doctor exited the lab. It was nice to see him again, even though she was pretty sure he didn't recognize her. Fair enough, she thought, the last time he had seen her she had been fourteen, and now she was almost twenty-three.

He hadn't changed a bit. Well, that wasn't right, he looked a bit older, probably in his early to mid-thirties, but that mature look was good on him. Last time she had seen him he had that boyish charm that had made her teenage heart gone wild. Now, he had cut his hair short, and looked ruggedly handsome. He had lost that bright innocent area, there was something darker about him, and she had to admit it suited him well. _Really_ well.

"Ah well" the Dr. Schwartz started "that interruption gives me at least a nice transition. If you're heading to Immunology, you have to know about Sjogren's syndrome. Come on, a little reminder from third year, how do you detect a Sjogren?"

Answers sprang, and Callie got back to work.

* * *

"Soooooo" House's voice drawled an hour or so later. "We have eliminated endocarditis and aplastic anemia, meaning that Snow White and Othello are idiots. And now we're just waiting for Chase's test results to make sure he is one as well". The head of service took his sweet time barring the two previous suggestions from the board letting the markers screech irritatingly.

"If you knew we were wrong, why let us do all those tests and lose time?" Foreman asked, unnerved.

"What? And pass on the pleasure of seeing your contrite faces when you come to me admitting that you're idiots?"

"We never said that!" Cameron protested

"Do you know how to cure the patient?" House asked her

"No" she reluctantly mumbled as Foreman looked away.

"Well then, I think I've got the right to call you idiots until you find out what's wrong with him."

"Does that mean you're an idiot too?" Foreman asked with as smirk. "You don't know either!"

Smiling mysteriously, House replied : "Who says I don't know ?"

"Then why…?" the neurologist was interrupted by a feminine voice at the door.

"Dr. Chase, I've got your results." the young intern said as she gave the file to the blond doctor.

House's eyes stood on the young woman, before asking:

" Schwartzy didn't bore you to death yet?"

Turning to him she raised a brow. "Why do you think I volunteered to bring those results?"

"And here I thought it was just an excuse to see me again" Chase joked as he send her a charming smile, surprising everyone, including himself.

House threw him a weird look.

"Sorry to disappoint you" Callie answered with an amused smile, and he grinned at her before looking down at the file.

"Damn it!" Chase exclaimed.

"What is it Doctor Chase? Could it be possible that the results for Sjogren's syndrome that you suggested so smartly earlier came back negative?" House asked with an overly shocked expression.

"Shove it" the Australian doctor replied with a glare as he threw the results on the table and sat down heavily. Yeah, all he needed right now was to be humiliated by his boss in front of the blue eyed angel.

Said angel was biting her lower lip while sending a reproachful look at his boss. Hum, reproachful?

"You're harsh" she told him softly.

"It's fun" he replied on the same tone.

"Oh my God, I can't believe it! Callie ? Is that you?" Cameron asked as she jumped from her seat to go hug the younger woman. Callie returned the hug wholeheartedly.

"Hey Dr. Cameron. Always the most observant one I see." She smiled and the two broke apart as Dr Foreman made his way to give her a hug too.

"It's good to see you kiddo." The neurologist told her with a gentle voice. " Does your mother know you're here?" He asked teasing.

"Yeah, that's funny" she answered with a slight slap on his arm. How was it that those people felt like old friends when she had just met them once, about eight years ago, and under tensed circumstances? She couldn't explain why it felt so good to be among them again, but it did.

But the best part of that small improvised reunion was Chase's face. He had slowly risen from his chair, and had taken a few steps in her direction, but he looked a bit green, and quite horrified. Callie reckoned that he was having trouble dealing with the fact that had somehow flirted with his boss's daughter.

"I…I huh…I'm…it's…" was all he could manage and Callie, taking pity on him, went to give him a well-deserved hug. He didn't hug her back and she felt him tense as her arms move around his neck. Fearing that maybe he wasn't at ease with her gesture, she let him go.

"Well, as moving as this hug party is, there's still a man dying two levels down from here" House's voice broke the little reunion

"Are you grumpy because you didn't get one?" Callie asked her father smartly.

"I only enjoy hugs from busted women, kid." He threw back at her.

With a glare she mumbled something that sounded like "not my fault if I inherited your breasts instead of mum's". She went to the door, but was called back by Cameron.

"Hey Callie, let's have lunch together" she offered.

The young intern smiled brightly at her. "Sure!" Then with a last glare at House, she left the office.

House watched her leave with a smirk, then turned to stare at his youngest doctor. It wasn't a glare, but Chase still felt like he was about to die.

"Look, I'm really sorry. I didn't know who she was. I just saw her, and well…you know, I _saw _her, and she looks….I mean, she's really, really…." He was rambling now; there was no way he was getting out of this one alive. Especially when all could think about was the way her soft body had felt pressed up against his. He had taken a lot of strenghts to keeps his arms and he felt even more disgusted at himself. She was Callie. She was a kid. She was hot.

"Not helping yourself there, man" Foreman laughed and Chase wondered for a moment if he could read his thoughts.

House let him squirm a few more minutes, before getting back to the case.

"Oh yeah" the diagnostician thought as he wrote other possible theories on the board, "this is gonna be fun".

* * *

So, what do you think? Was it bad ?


End file.
